


Fighter

by mspeachykeen2012



Category: VIXX
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fighting, Forbidden, M/M, MMA, Romance, Smut, wontaek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:17:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 72,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12749991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mspeachykeen2012/pseuds/mspeachykeen2012
Summary: Where Wonshik is an MMA Fighter and Taekwoon is another man’s trophy.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> Thank you for stopping by and giving this a look! I couldn't get this Ravi out of my head (blame the shirtless awards show performance) and voila, here you have an MMA machine <3
> 
> I do like to warn a little bit about there being blood, pretty detailed fight scenes and such. Other than that, from the tags above I figure yall know what you're getting into :)
> 
> Truly, thank you again and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Best,
> 
> Raven

* * *

 

                Each day was the same.

                The alarm would blare at 4:03 am. Tired eyes would stare at it until 4:05 am, when the second alarm would sound out. MMA fight scenes would be played for the next ten minutes, the same loop of short videos playing as slowly black lashes raised fully.

                The dark walls and cold floors would quickly be drenched with gold light as a timer would click on at 4:15 am.

                 Slowly, Kim Wonshik would raise from his warm bed, eyes now adjusted as he padded to the bathroom.

                Each morning started the same.

                By 6:00 am, the walk to the gym was with the early birds on their morning commute to work. On Saturdays, it was with joggers and cyclists and people doing their own version of a walk of shame.

                Wonshik's body would already be warm from his 4:30 am run, his muscles conditioned to the preview, arms pulling open the large steel doors to the boxing gym exactly seven blocks from his small apartment.

                Each day went the same.

                Hours of training – weights, kicks, lunges, strikes. Lunch. Light Cardio. Heavier dinner. Watching his fights. Light second dinner.

                Each night ended the same.

                After walking the seven blocks home, he'd let himself in with a single key. He'd cook a snack, sit on the couch as he'd watch the Seoul skyline. He never watched TV. Felt restless when he sat for a long time but when he watched the orange and red lights shine back at him, he was calm.

                Only after showering, washing his face, brushing his teeth and putting on deodorant, he would stretch. 15 minutes of unwinding the coils sewn deep in his muscles and joints.

                Climbing into bed, he'd stare at the ceiling and think of the lyrics he hadn't written down.

                Eventually, fatigue would lower his eyes and after an attempt to keep them open a minute longer, Wonshik would succumb to sleep. Normally, at 10 pm, no earlier and no later.

                Every day would begin again, six hours later.

 

*

 

                Each day brought something different.

                Today, it brought a clingy boyfriend with grabby hands and  Jung Taekwoon elbowed Joonki in his beefy chest, grumbling as he peeled the hands from his body. The other simply cracked open an eye before bringing his arms back to his own stomach and rolled into the mattress top.

                Taekwoon made breakfast for them two, squinting at the six o'clock sun trying to wake up. The view wasn't of the sun itself but rather the rays on the brick building opposite their only window.

                Joonki ate like an animal, shoveling whatever Taekwoon had made that morning while he sipped his coffee slow and just watched with mild interest. It made sense—his boyfriend was 6 feet 5 inches, there was a lot to feed.

                But also, his lover had needed the carbs for his circuit training.

                " _Weight_ training, babe."

                Taekwoon smiled shyly as he ushered the other out. A quick scan showed a load of laundry to start before he could go but he'd decided he'd leave it for later.

                Each morning started off with good intentions.

                The streets were lined with people, bumping shoulders and scattering when a bus would come along. Taekwoon pulled his rolling cart behind him as he made his way to the grocery store. Rush hour was upon them and he hated the fact that he was caught in the middle of it but he had stayed in the shower longer than needed so it was his fault.

                Each day was always full of surprises.

                "Taekwoon, what a nice visit!"

                He would sometimes stop by his friend's weird little general store. It was out of the way but his nights were always Joonki's so.

                Groceries, friends, coffee and a bout of the new art museum to fill his time had been the day's orders. He accomplished half of the list and promised he'd do the rest tomorrow. He wouldn't but it was a nice thought.

                The night would end with Joonki, always.

                His boyfriend was sweaty and exhausted, leaning against the shower wall when Taekwoon got home, finding him half asleep. His coach had pushed him too hard again.

                Helping him out of the bathroom, Taekwoon assisted with getting the other ready for bed, smiling against his lips when the other thanked him for putting up with his shit. The younger man didn't reply but tucked him in bed and went make some dinner. Joonki would always wake up for some dinner.

                Eating his own, Taekwoon watched the street lights paint the brick across from his window. Finishing the dishes, he finally closed the blinds.

                Joonki was asleep with an empty plate by his thighs, slumped against the headboard with his chin to his chest. Taekwoon took the dirty dish and laid the tall man down. He kissed him lightly.

                "Night."

                Eventually, after slipping under the covers, Taekwoon drifted to sleep with a new album, the sounds lulling him into darkness.

                He'd wake up the next morning to Joonki's boner digging into the back of his thigh.


	2. One

                The summer was always the start of his year, something like a fiscal year that tracks differently than the calendar year. Wonshik toasted a protein shake to June 1st.

                Ok, not the true beginning of summer but the first of June signified when his fight schedules began, his agent knowing when he liked to spar best. His body had always performed better in the hot and humid climate.

                Looking over the small round table of the café, brown eyes that looked more black watched the woman who had her eyes in the planner laid out on the surface, biting her lip as she marked through a date. Then she raised her gaze, perfectly arched eyebrow lifting.

                "Just trying to iron out your summer fights."

                "Don't I have my first one in a couple weeks?"

                "Couple of months," she corrected, eyes downcast again. "End of July." Wonshik's face screwed up.

                "That doesn't make any sense." He normally had at least five fights during the five months starting in June. Last year, he had a whopping seven and his body had been evidence of that. His nose had been broken three times and now it had a slight crook to it.

                "Wonshik," she said smoothly, looking at him. "You have paid your dues."

                Chuckling, though part of him didn't believe her entirely, Wonshik wouldn't argue with his agent. This was, after all, her job.

                New fighters had to prove themselves all year round—with fights boasting accolades such as knockouts, unanimous decisions and publicity, trying to demonstrate they were worthy of actually standing in the octagon with a nationally broadcasted audience.

                Especially being in Asia when most of the viewers were in North America, the UK and Brazil. It was harder for them—but that was what had pushed Wonshik in the first place.

                Now, after accomplishing a winning streak of his first ten fights, eight of which were submissions and the other two being unanimous decisions, as well as recording only three losses out of 23 fights over the last four years, he had certainly made a name for himself. Not to mention, as his agent said, also paying his dues.

                "You'll have three fights this year. Your biggest one will be the match against…" she read, skimming a manicured finger down the paper in front of her. "Ah, Guillaume St. Francois."

                "French?" Wonshik guessed as he sipped at his protein drink, making a face as he looked at it. They had been sitting for so long it had started separating and he groaned. But his trainer would slice his balls off if he didn't finish it all. Closing his eyes, he gulped down the rest of it, gagging slightly.

                "No. Canadian. He's bigger than you by a couple pounds. He's actually at the upper limit of the Welterweight category so you're going to need to bulk up. But I already told let Kyungmin know. And I'm serious, Wonshik," she said, suddenly stern. "This one is important, it's not like your little backyard jungle rumbles."

                Rolling his eyes, the young man reminded himself that this was her job and for every match he lost, it was little cracks in her reputational veneer.

                "Where is it?"

                "LA." Her planner shut with a finality that made him return to her face. Her pretty face that if he had been into women, they probably would have fucked already. His lips spread, hers pursed. "Your first will be in Japan against a rookie. Should be easy so you can get in the fight swing without too much risk of losing—"

                "Or getting injured," he said, reminding her of why he wanted safe fights first. She rolled her eyes this time.

                "That. And then your third one will be in Australia. You'll be opening but depending on how well you do with the first two, we may get deeper billing."

                Packing up, Wonshik watched her though his thoughts were on his fights, picturing each of his opponents. Then he thought back to his opening music. That was his favorite part—well, second to actually fighting. He loved finding the perfect intro song and how it elicited such a response from the audience, even those not familiar with him. Wonshik wanted to go for a different type this time.

                "… even listening? I swear, you're killing me."

                Blinking, Wonshik smiled again, this time a little sheepish. He could get a little distracted sometimes. That’s why he had to be as strict on himself as he was, otherwise his life would be a mess and no matter how natural a fighter he was, he'd still be in Thailand, a novice in the mixed martial arts craft despite how long he'd train.

                "I'm sorry. Yes, I will be diligent, I'll gain the weight." He leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek but leaned in further, catching the corner of her mouth instead. She cuffed his ear in response, looking around instantly. The pink on her cheeks made her prettier and made Wonshik laugh, white teeth revealed behind thin lips.

                His agent, Ms. Lee, stomped off and the young 23 year old left standing felt his shoulders sag in relief. He hated meeting with his agent; it was always so tense. That’s what he had his manager for, to do this talking stuff. Plus, he thought, as he watched her leave the parking lot, she always acted as if he was a burden.

                He was, most Korean fighters were, because he was the minority in the truest sense of the word. The company was based out of a larger country and here he was, from this tiny place that wasn't known for their aggression. Compared to the other fighters from countries that flooded the UFC and most other leagues, he had to work 50 times harder.

                That was where Wonshik's unyielding determination came from. It didn't come in the form of making his family proud or the money, though that was a large bonus—one of his more realistic motivations. But it was his pride that had made this dream come true. He was proud to be Korean, and he was proud to go on stage with his Korean flag that raised every time he won.

                Grabbing his empty blender bottle, he stuffed it into his gym bag and headed home, the mild June day greeting him with a breeze. He felt his lips curl.

                Halfway to his apartment, looking at the sun that was retiring, he ran through his dinner options. Stopping, he realized he didn’t have any eggs.

                "Shit," he cursed, looking to his left towards the grocery store when his home was to his right. He needed eggs—they were a staple in his restricted diet.

                His arms were tired but his legs were fine and the quick walk to the store wouldn't hurt.

 

*

 

                The first thing Taekwoon noticed were the tattoos. They slithered out from beneath the hem of a white T-shirt, dark and shadowy on the tanned skin of the man's biceps and forearms. They weren't connected, not like a full sleeve but they were close and numerous enough to be one. He liked the skull on his hand.

                Taekwoon looked down, trying not to seem like he was staring, even though he was. Examining an apple, he brought it up to his face, then looked to the left slightly. The man was tall and though his clothes fit him snug, he didn't look that thin. Long and lean, that's what he was.

                He wore a jean vest over the t-shirt with gray sweatpants that hung an inch lower than was appropriate but the shirt was long enough to hide any sliver of underwear that threatened to peek out.

                A large duffel bag sat at his lower back, the strap digging into his chest, cutting under a nicely defined pectoral muscle. Taekwoon swallowed.

                Shifting, he moved around the produce area, now on the opposite side of the man. His hat, a fitted cap, was backwards and low on his head. Even so, Taekwoon could see the platinum blonde at the nape of his neck. It curled slightly and for some reason that made Taekwoon's lips curve in return.

                Without noticing, Taekwoon followed him with his eyes. He moved gracefully, like that of a dancer, and it was slightly hypnotic. As he picked at the vegetables in front of him, eyes watched his tattoos flex. The skull shifted as he raised his arm.

                Taekwoon observed it and then observed the man, who now had eyes for him, hand mid scratch, knuckles scraping at his jaw.

                Blinking, then looking back and forth, the man peered over his shoulder behind him. Then back to Taekwoon who could only blush.

                He hadn't meant to get caught.

                The man easily smiled and it was as disarming as everything else about him. Though Taekwoon had an eerie feeling when he smiled, of something promising. It told him things it shouldn't and there was suddenly a line of goosebumps up his spine.

                Reaching in his bag and pulling out a slip of paper, ripped and slightly crumbled, the man clicked a pen that came from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, he quickly jotted something down then looked up, that same smile on his face, though a little vaguer. He held out the paper to Taekwoon.

                He stared at it.

                Suddenly, the other man's eyes lit up. "You didn't want an autograph?"

                Taekwoon looked at the slip of what now looked like a flyer with the man's signature on the back of it, bowing his head. Joonki was going to have a field day with this.

                "No," he said softly, raising eyes, his smile gentle though he couldn't help the embarrassed chuckle as the other turned red.

                "But you looked like you recognized me—"

                "I did," Taekwoon replied quickly, bringing a hand to his hair in more a nervous habit, gripping to the black strands for a second before pushing them to the side. "I know who you are."

                Kim Wonshik. UFC mixed martial artist who had a talent for being able to get people in holds they couldn't get out of. Who could knock someone out with a couple solid punches. Yes, he knew who he was.

                The other straightened slightly, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his clothes. Taekwoon's smile slipped a little bit.

                "Ah, then… you must have been rooting for the other guy," he said in amusement, in a voice much deeper than Taekwoon would have guessed just by seeing him. He hadn't stayed long after the match, definitely hadn't stayed long enough to hear Wonshik's victory speech.

                "You could say that," the black haired man said easily, looking down at the other's hands. Then back up. "You fought my… friend."

                At that, Wonshik raised an eyebrow. "Now that’s something I don't get to hear every day. Who was he?" His body had relaxed and it was a sight to see because he was still long, still lean but there was a nonchalance to his body that dripped attractive. The goosebumps raised once more.

                "Choi Joonki… it was like a year and a half ago in Hongkong—"

                "Ah… tall dude, way too tall to be in Welterweight?" At Taekwoon's sharp nod, Wonshik started laughing. Then quieted, putting his hands up in defense. "I'm sorry. I just…" He stopped again at the look Taekwoon was giving him.

                "He's good, you know? That was his first real fight—"

                Wonshik shook his head. "The fact that you have to qualify it with 'real' means he wasn't ready."

                It was true, Joonki was far from ready but his team had insisted that he was. It was his first UFC fight and it was against another Korean. The buzz was out of control and it got to Joonki who had come out the gates firing, trying to land any punch he could. But Wonshik was patient and he ducked and dodged, Joonki's frustration evident by the second round. It was then that he had made a fatal mistake, his inexperience getting the best of him as he went to grab Wonshik's much smaller frame.

                It all changed in the span of 4.5 seconds, the younger man taking him down with a manuever and sitting high on his chest, knees pinning his biceps down as he repeated his strikes to Joonki's face. Five in all—two to the left, three to the right. The referee had pulled Wonshik off, knuckles dripping of blood as the official went to Joonki. He wasn't responding.

                Taekwoon had tears in his eyes as he had watched from two rows in, his boyfriend staring up, unmoving. Then Joonki blinked, trying to raise his hands. They fell to his side and it was called.

                Even with the flags on the last punches, the younger man had still won.

                Wonshik had howled, sweat drenched hair matted to his face as he paced the ring like an animal. Taekwoon had hated him in that moment.

                But after the past year or so, seeing his boyfriend go through the same while doing the same to others, the older man had realized it was the sport. It was the life Joonki had chosen and it was the life Taekwoon had chosen to support by being with Joonki.

                Still, he couldn't get Wonshik's attack out of his mind. It was so fitting that he'd see the man at the grocery store, looking slightly delinquent but rather harmless. Looking at his hands, he realized what those fists could do.

                "Did he fire his management?" At the other man's no, Wonshik chuckled again. "He should. Is he at least a Middleweight now?"

                 Taekwoon could only nod, though he felt defensive and embarrassed and oddly intrigued.

                 "Did something right," he murmured then caught the older man's eyes. "Well, be sure to tell him I said hi."

                With one last glance at Taekwoon, a rake of his eyes, Wonshik's mouth curved on one side. Shaking his head, the blonde picked up the celery in front of him and put in the small basket at his side, moving on down towards the other aisles, leaving Taekwoon to watch. It was only with slight shame that he noticed the other's ass looked amazing in those sweatpants.

 

*

 

                "I was thinking," Taekwoon started, putting away the bread in a box on the linoleum counter. He looked over to where his boyfriend, Joonki, stood, going through the bags. "Why did you start off in the Welterweight category anyways?"

                Joonki, with his dark brown bangs hanging in his face and his heart shaped mouth set in an O, screwed his face up.

                "What?"

                He was back in his apartment that he shared with his boyfriend, unloading groceries with help from said man. The question, for some reason, had weighed on Taekwoon's mind. It did feel odd, now that it had been brought to his attention.

                "Why were your first couple of fights in the Welterweight? Weren't you too… tall for that?"

                He was trying to sound nonchalant but Wonshik's words were a little haunting and had piqued his curiosity. Joonki had lost all but one fight in that category before gaining weight and fighting in the Middleweight.

                Taekwoon handed his boyfriend a box of cereal. Joonki took it and easily put it above the refrigerator, with the rest. The black haired man smiled in gratitude.

                "That's random." But then, after putting something else away, he leaned against the counter on the other side of the sink, crossing his long arms. "Sanghoon thought it would be a good idea to slim down and fight guys smaller than me."

                Taekwoon blinked into the bag in front of him. "Did you think that was a good idea?"

                "No… I don't know, I'm not the one who knows that kind of shit. I just fight."

                Sighing, the other pretended his silence was because he was checking the eggs to see if any had cracked and not because he couldn't really answer the question.

                "Babe, where is this coming from? I mean, I love it that you know this type of stuff but did you read something? And did you get almond milk?"

                Taekwoon sighed. Of course he hadn't—he didn't know that Joonki had _wanted_ almond milk.

                "You didn't tell me you needed almond milk."

                "I didn't tell you that’s what I'm switching to now? Sanghoon wants me to try it. Something about dairy…"

                The 26 year old man, older than Taekwoon by just a couple months though sometimes he felt like his own child, came close with his angular face and lanky arms. He wrapped them around Taekwoon's shoulders, bending over to press a kiss to his cheek.

                "I'll get it tomorrow," the younger man promised.

                He wasn't annoyed, he really wasn't. It was just that he had set out to the grocery store, his second time in one day, to get his boyfriend the items from his new and improved diet plan, as furnished by his trainer/manager, Sanghoon, last minute. And since the other was so tired after his day, Taekwoon had volunteered.

                "Mm, you are the best."

                It was accompanied by another kiss, this one to the corner where his neck met his shoulder and it had always been his detriment, a shiver working through his belly. He knew he'd have a hard time resisting.

                Turning in the older man's embrace, Taekwoon reached up and wrapped his arms around Joonki's neck. Spreading his thighs, the taller man easily hefted the younger up against him, lips finding one another as they found their way to the bedroom.

                Taekwoon decided he wasn't going to tell Joonki he had seen Wonshik, after all. It would just be an unnecessary distraction.


	3. Two

                "Babe!"

                Taekwoon looked over his shoulder, suddenly noticing a freckle just before the curve. Then he shifted his gaze to his boyfriend who was on the couch, looking at his phone with large, bright eyes. He was so handsome.

                Feeling his lips curve, he waited for Joonki to look at him. Once he did, he nodded for him to start speaking.

                "I got invited…"

                Rolling his eyes slightly, Taekwoon turned back to the table, flipping through a magazine. It was for soccer leagues and players, the young man receiving one every quarter. It had information about different clubs, equipment and community intramural programs in Seoul. It was nice to think of joining one someday but he realized the thought felt better than actually doing it. Ever since getting injured in secondary school, the dream of playing was always just that.

                When Joonki didn't continue, Taekwoon did so for him easily. "Invited to where?"

                "The SK MMA networking party!"

                He had been waiting for Taekwoon to ask and it made the younger man smile down at the magazine.

                The South Korean MMA Association threw a small networking party every year. It was invitation only and it was only for serious athletes and known names in the MMA world. Joonki had been trying to go ever since he had picked up the sport three years ago and not to discredit the older man, it was definitely a big deal.

                But Joonki was very… ambitious. Sometimes too ambitious and his view of himself sometimes eclipsed reality. So Taekwoon, if he was being completely honest, wouldn't have been surprised if his boyfriend had been snubbed for a second year in a row.

                Lucky for Joonki, this year was different.

                Raising easily, Taekwoon came over to the back of the couch, grabbing the other man's cheeks and moving his head back to look up at him. Bending over, he gave him an upside down kiss.

                "I'm proud of you, Joon," he said affectionately.

                "Hm," the other hummed, starting to pull him across the furniture.

                "No," Taekwoon whined but melted into his fate, ending up in his boyfriend's lap. "Joonie," he mumbled, reaching for a kiss.

                "I want you to come with me."

                That stopped Taekwoon as he tried to climb out of the other's lap. "No, thank you—"

                "Come on, Taek."

                Taekwoon hated that nickname.

                "No," he repeated, threading a hand through his newly dyed chocolate locks. He had cut it short, though it was a little longer on top, the brunette strands brushing against his forehead as he pushed it to the side. He liked it. Joonki wasn't too keen on it yet.

                He had always loved Taekwoon's black hair and he had always loved it long, like when they had first met and it was almost to his shoulders. But he'd get used to it, he promised.

                "You'd get to meet other people in the company." Speaking of the other, Joonki was now pulling him close.

                "I don't need to, you is more than enough."

                Plus, Taekwoon didn't really like parties. And this one, filled with steroid pumped fighters and thirsty females, did not sound like one to change his mind.

                "Please?" Joonki begged, his voice taking on a whine, hands reaching for Taekwoon again. This time, the younger man shook his head, going back over to the small wood dining table.

                "No. You'll have more fun without me, who knows, you might make some new friends," Taekwoon said lightly.

                "But," Joonki said, uncharacteristically small, enough so to catch his boyfriend's gaze. "I want you to be there with me. This is big."

                He knew his boyfriend was trying convince him and he wasn't stupid enough to not see through that but when Joonki looked his way, he felt something crumble. It had always been a weird connection, their love growing exponentially until it had just as suddenly plateaued.

                And even though Taekwoon was stubborn, his parents could attest to that, there was something about Joonki that just made giving in… easy.

                "If you leave me by myself—"

                Hopping over the couch, Joonki scampered to Taekwoon, grabbing his face for a loud kiss. "I won't, I promise! In fact, you'll probably have to give me a dirty look to make sure I don't touch you _too_ much."

                That he had made his boyfriend so happy was what made giving in worth it.

 

*

 

               There was a month after his fight season that Wonshik looked forward to: December. It was 30 days, give or take, of relaxation, rest and drinking. He liked drinking the most, then the resting second. He'd go to the Southern Hemisphere where it was midsummer and sit on a beach and chill with the ocean. It was the only time during the year he could give himself a break, to enjoy being Wonshik. The other 11 months were all for December.

                Wonshik held it high in his mind as he struck with a hard right jab, following up with a left elbow as he caught his trainer's pad barely. Setting his shoulders, he repeated. Again. Again. Again.

                Finally, he hit square in the middle of the pad but instead of relaxing he did it once more, hitting the small black dot in the middle. Once more, black dot.

                Every time he achieved his shot, he had to do it at least three times. Succeeding once did not guarantee him a victory. It needed to feel so instinctual that his brain didn't have time to second guess.

                "Get some water," his trainer, Jae, said easily. Wonshik's hands stayed up for a second longer before relaxing.

                "I'm not—"

                "You're sweating like its 100 degrees in here."

                That was true, but this was an especially rigorous workout.

                "I like the feeling," Wonshik said, raising his hands again. Jae, though, did not budge, instead pointed to the jug of water sitting on the edge of the boxing ring to their right. The younger man's shoulders sagged as his fists dropped.

                "Fine," he muttered defeated. The other smiled shortly.

                Taking the jug, he held it in two hands and brought it to his mouth. As he chugged, sweat slipped from his hair into his eyes, stinging slightly.  He'd have to cut it soon, but he was holding off. He liked it longer.

                Perhaps he could pull it back in a tie for the first fight.

                Smiling at the ridiculous image, he automatically looked at the clock on the wall. He had five minutes before it would be time for cardio. He needed to get on a treadmill and then it was back home for dinner.

                "Did Kyungmin tell you how much you're getting for the Japan fight?" Jae asked referring to Wonshik's manager, coming close, taking the jug from his hands. Then he started to untie the blonde's wrists, the younger man rolling his eyes.

                But Jae liked doing it—had been doing it for most of his life. Born and raised in Thailand to the name Panit, he had grown up in the Muay Thai world. He had learned to tie hands at eight.

                He and Wonshik had met when the young South Korean boy was just 16 years old, traveling to Bangkok to train. When it was time to go back home at 18, Wonshik had asked Panit, who then wanted to be called Jae to fit in, to come with him. The man was at least a decade older than Wonshik but their relationship was more of brothers—stern, no shit-taking brothers, but siblings none the less.

                So Wonshik allowed his trainer to do what he did best and shook his hands when they were free, reaching for the jug again. Normally, fighters practiced in fingerless gloves with padded knuckles but Jae had sneered when Kyungmin suggested it. There was no room for such laziness; if you fight with cloth, then you train in cloth, he had spat. Wonshik had laughed at his manager's face.

                Sitting back against the ring, he nodded. "About $60,000."

                Nodding, Jae folded his arms. He was a contemplative man and so as he considered the amount, Wonshik allowed his mind to get ready for the hour he was going to spend on the treadmill.

                "Go ahead and do 30 minutes of cardio," Jae spoke, breaking the younger man from his thoughts. Wonshik's brow furrowing, the other elaborated. "Kyungmin said you're going to a party tonight."

                Sighing, Wonshik frowned, much like a child who was being forced to do something—anything—they didn't want to. Shoulders slumped, he went to the row of treadmills in the large steel space. Everything echoed, even the beeps of the machine. After starting, Wonshik threw Jae another pitiful look. The older man laughed.

                "That's not my area of expertise. 30 minutes, Wonshik."

                "I'd rather stay here and train." But the moment it left his mouth, he pursed his lips. Jae's eyes lit up.

                "Oh we could definitely have that arranged—"

                "No no no. I was just kidding. I want to go," Wonshik said quickly, adopting a smile to show he was happy to go to a party where he had to be cordial and friendly at the same time being intimidating and hard. It was always so exhausting.

                He would have preferred a night session with Jae.

                But the man was a sadist and if Wonshik wanted enough energy to at least hold his dick to pee the next day, then he'd go to the party instead. As torturous as it would be.

 

*

 

                Wonshik stepped out of the elevator onto the rooftop, yellow and white lights strung along the periphery as well as around the bar. It casted the area in rustic colors and it would have actually been quite nice if it were a small gathering. But there were at least 75 people crowded around, some even in a pool—fully clothed—and he didn't even want to know.

                He just wanted to get in, say hi then get out. 30 minutes tops he told himself, setting his watch discreetly.

                Eyes looked around, swimming between blank faces of both new and old colleagues and industry people. He had never really integrated but Wonshik was fine with that. It made bringing a knee to someone's face easier.

                "Ah, Wonshik."

                That was a voice he knew well and his mouth curved despite his reluctance. Turning, he looked at the retired MMA trainer who had since turned fight video mogul.

                "Youngha, how is life?"

                They exchanged short bows and hugs. It had been a year since they had seen each other and Youngha had always been one of those people that you couldn't help but like. He was talented, kind and beyond attractive.

                Save a blush, Wonshik listened as the other started to speak. It was the same stuff they all spouted at these types of parties, trying to show that their lives were better than last time. That you should be interested in them for any number of reasons: Sponsorship, Training Opportunities, Herbal Remedies. That was the point of these parties—to keep the business secrets inside. So if you needed shit, you knew who to go to. It would be a disappointment, not to mention liability, to the UFC if there was a scandal about a fighter trying to score steroids. All it took was one bad deal to ruin everything.

                But when Youngha spoke of how his company was doing amazing and he'd love to film Wonshik's next fight, he was being honest. And though they weren't necessarily friends, Wonshik treated him like one and agreed.

                "But you're going to have to get through Ms. Lee," the young man warned and Youngha laughed.

                "Ah, you still have her on then?" the other teased, knowing the young woman had quite the reputation. Her small stature had been her biggest hurdle and as a result, she had to make up for it with an attitude. She really was sweet… when she wanted to be.

                "I don't think I have a choice," Wonshik responded honestly, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, styled to the side. Letting his eyes roam, he heard Youngha continue talking as he watched. There were so many new faces and it made his eyes feel heavy. He was tired.

                Suddenly, he saw a memory. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like as he peered across the room where another new face was talking loudly, explaining a move he had done.

                Choi Joonki.

                But that wasn't the familiar one. It was the man standing next to him, the one with new, beautiful, rich brown hair that was short. Shorter than before. His stance was the same, though. Shoulders, broad and probably very sturdy sat atop of a perfect, long body. He was dressed nicely—still casual but he wore loafers with charcoal pants, fitted around his waist. His black button up matched his shoes and there was something nameless that was intriguing about it all.

                But not intriguing enough as he blinked, realizing the young man from the grocery store was staring back at him. A pretty face to go with his pretty body.

                Wonshik had seen plenty of those in his travels and though he was mildly interested, he wasn't interested enough.

                Youngha had finished speaking and was now looking at Wonshik. The blonde smiled, asking if he wanted a drink to which the answer was yes. He didn't give the brunette across the rooftop another glance.

 

*

 

                It was him.

                Being dramatic had never served Taekwoon well but he felt himself fall into a little bit of a frenzy when he had seen Wonshik across the room, in a suit. A three piece suit.

                A beautiful, ash gray suit that fit his body perfectly. And knowing there were tattoos littering his body, hidden from plain view, was an amazing thought.

                Eyes sneaking over to Joonki, Taekwoon suddenly cringed internally. He had _told_ Joonki he shouldn't have worn ripped jeans. But the other insisted that Sanghoon knew the crowd. So far, there were a couple of others who wore denim and Joonki did look quite stylish with his jeans and his simple (but expensive) quarter sleeve cream shirt. But he just looked so… average. Compared to Wonshik, he looked like small fish.

                It was not his battle to fight, though. Joonki could walk around naked. As long as he was happy, what did it matter to Taekwoon what he wore?

                Blinking, he gulped at the sight of Wonshik's neck tattoo, the one on the side that dipped beneath his collar.

                Then the younger man broke their eye contact and Taekwoon felt the odd sense of loss. No acknowledgment that they had seen each other before. No understanding that it was him, the guy he had given his autograph to that day, a month ago. No interest in Taekwoon.

                Not that he needed it—wanted it.

                Taekwoon had enough of it with Joonki and he quickly turned his attention back to his boyfriend who was talking about his last fight and how he had nearly shattered his hand with a right hook. Wincing slightly, Taekwoon remembered that night. He hadn't gone to the fight because Joonki was scared people would start speculating what the brunette's role was in the fighter's life.

                Though there was a slice of irritation at the insinuation, he was also relieved because he hated going to fights. He had never been a fan of the sport, especially when it got particularly bloody. Why would he enjoy watching his boyfriend get beat senseless? For what? $10k? $15k?

                Having to hold a man much bigger than himself as he cried from swollen eyes didn't sound worth it.

                But then again, Taekwoon had the freedom to pursue composing off of the money Joonki made. So he wasn't one to judge, now was he?

                "So, tell me again, this is your publicist?"

                One of the women was looking at Taekwoon like he was rich and hung like a horse. The brunette blinked. Joonki laughed.

                "This is my best friend, Taekwoon. He's just along for the ride… and to find a cute girl," the tall man teased, chuckling louder at the glare from Taekwoon. The woman bit the corner of her lip. The brunette gagged a little.

                "Well I am sure I could show you—"

                "Ah, I think I see… somebody." Looking over at an empty wall, he pointed. The people in the huddle looked over. Taekwoon took the opportunity to leave, heading to the edge of the rooftop. The last thing he heard was the woman call him weird. He'd take it.

                Then he heard Joonki laugh at the comment.

                It should have been beautiful. The night was perfect, the weather a breezy summer evening that swept against him sweetly. The lights were bright without being blinding and the stars above beamed in the distance. Standing at the edge of the building, this should have been beautiful.

                But instead, he wanted out. He wanted home. He just wanted away.   

               

  *

 

                Leaning his head against the wall in the stairwell, Taekwoon brought his legs to the side of the narrow staircase as people passed him. They giggled about him sitting on the filthy stairs but the steps weren't actually all that dirty. And it was better than standing up there, ignored by his boyfriend, watched with a curious eye by all the others. He didn't like talking to strangers, shit he barely liked talking with his friends—sue him.

                But Joonki wanted to stay and for some reason, Taekwoon didn't want to leave without him. He didn't know why, didn't know why it felt more important in that situation. They did their own things a lot. When Joonki was training, Taekwoon did everything by himself. Well, except for when he was with Hakyeon. Or Hongbin and Sanghyuk. Or even the chatty grocery store cashier. He wasn't a friend, but the more Jaehwan talked, he figured soon enough they'd be.

                Whether he wanted it or not.

                But even that, which would normally lift an annoying smile to rest just beneath the surface, didn't make this night better.

                Hearing the footsteps, Taekwoon moved over to the side as he scrolled through an SNS app. He saw the shoes out of the corner of his eyes as they passed and slowly slid up the extended figure, feeling his lips part as he saw the electric blonde hair. Following him with his eyes, he watched as Wonshik looked over as he rounded the corner, hands in his pockets as he started down the next level of steps.

                He caught Taekwoon's eyes.

                Then he kept descending, no change, no recognition and the brunette felt his lips curve downward. That was a great addition to his shitty night.

                Sighing, he listened to the footsteps that got fainter with each step. Putting his head in his arms, Taekwoon wished for a teleporter.

                "Hey."

                Blinking against the knobs of his knees, Taekwoon wasn't sure that one word was directed towards him. But he knew that voice and when he peeked, he saw Wonshik's face through the bars of the stairs. He was standing on the lower flight of stairs and though there was space between them, they were eye level.

                "Your hair."

                Taekwoon lifted his head, then pulled his bangs over his eyes instinctively, almost a little embarrassed.

                "Yeah," he said, simply. Internally he cocked a gun and put it in his mouth.

                "What are you doing sitting in the stairwell? It smells like piss in here."

                Wonshik was now leaning forward, into the bars and there was a moment of solidarity. If Taekwoon could be a moody teenager, so could he. Feeling his lips curl, the older man immediately crushed the thought.

                "I'm… not a party person," he mumbled, then looked up as another couple came down the stairs, his body moving over. Wonshik nodded at them as if he knew them. But they didn't speak so maybe it was just an acquaintance.

                "Me neither. They're all the same."

                Wonshik was looking at him like he was expecting an answer and for the first time in a long time, Taekwoon felt like he needed to deliver.

                "I know, right?"

                Taekwoon's mind cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. Was that the best he could do?

                "I've never seen you at one of these," Wonshik said lowly, like he wasn't going to let Taekwoon get away with that one. But he did. "So you're the publicist?"

                Chuckling, the brunette shook his head. How quickly rumors spread—even about people as insignificant as Taekwoon.

                "Best friend."

                At that, the blonde raised a dark eyebrow. "Best friend?"

                Suddenly perspiring, Taekwoon nodded. There was no way the other could know but it just felt as if he could see through the lie to the truth. And it felt dangerous, for one too many reasons.

                Joonki's career would be over if he were outed. He would be disowned by everything he held dear. It was the kiss of death for Choi Joonki for the world to find out about he and Taekwoon.

                That’s why they lived in a two bedroom apartment, the other room set up as Joonki's in case any of the taller man's family came into town. Or when any of Joonki's new friends came around, Taekwoon sleeping in their bed as if it was only his. It wasn't unfamiliar, living this lie.

                But Joonki had always been regretful for the burden his life imposed upon them, Taekwoon's family and friends more than accepting. He had always been so envious of the support Taekwoon had in his sexuality and in that, he fed off the younger man.

                Plus, Joonki was always so free with Taekwoon behind closed doors, in the dark corner of a room or a car. It was no more his boyfriend's fault than it was his. This was the world they lived in—they'd do good until they could do better.

                Good was a two bedroom shit hole apartment in Seoul where they kissed when no one was watching. Better was a beach house in Jeju where they made love on their balcony, cares in the wind.

                Blinking, Taekwoon suddenly felt bad. Here he was, staring at Wonshik, thinking about Joonki. He should be staring at Joonki, thinking about Joonki.

                "Best friend."

                He didn't know why he repeated it but the smile on the blonde's face told him he noticed. There was no malice, though, so Taekwoon pursed his lips before asking his question.

                "What about you? Why aren't you upstairs?" he asked softly.

                Lips curving, they split with a chuckle that reverberated off the walls. "I'm making my escape." Wonshik looked at the watch on his wrist. "Actually, I'm 10 minutes late."

                "Late to what?"

                "Leaving."

                With a light grin, Taekwoon tried not to smile. "You time when you're going to sneak out of places?"

                "You don't?"

                It was playful, the first time there was a weightlessness to Wonshik's voice. His earlier nonchalance forgotten, Taekwoon gripped the phone in his hand.

                "Do you—" Wonshik stopped as both looked up to the man making his way down the stairs, first by Taekwoon and then by the blonde. Taekwoon, while the other was watching the man descend, noticed the other neck tattoo Wonshik had. This one was bigger and he wondered how long it had taken, the intricacies and slight color fascinating. Turning eyes back to the brunette, Wonshik didn't smile. "Do you want to share a cab?"

                Eyes widening, the older man looked forward. It shouldn't have scared him but for some reason it did. He didn't want to be near Wonshik, he wanted to be with Joonki.

                Laughing, this time loud enough to echo down a few flights, Wonshik bowed his head, pink on his long cheeks.

                "Well, then you have fun hiding out in the stairwell," he said, his laugh still in his tone and it had Taekwoon suddenly wanting to say yes. "Your hair looks good, by the way."

                Wonshik's head bobbed with each step down and Taekwoon took a moment before leaping towards the railing, looking over, calling out to the younger man. Wonshik leaned over as well, face turned up, mouth set. As if he wanted to smile but wouldn't, not yet.

                Not until Taekwoon said yes.

                "Wait for me."


	4. Three

                The air felt… different.

                No. It tasted different.

                It wasn't thick or heavy. It wasn't light or refreshing. It hit the back of his throat and reminded him of something familiar and comfortable. Something like déjà vu.

                Unsettled at the feeling, Wonshik rolled down his window, letting the outside rush in, quenching a thirst he didn't know he had. Part of him wondered if the man next to him minded, part of him didn't care because air flooding the backseat of their taxi felt heavenly against his overheated skin.

                Which was weird, because he normally loved the heat. His body was primed for fighting in the heat.

                Meeting the other's eyes, Wonshik blinked. But he wasn't fighting, was he?

                The brunette rolled down his own window and suddenly the velocity of the air changed, now formed in a steady stream from one open space to another. Face tilted slightly, the other leaned his head out a little, the wind sifting through his shiny hair.

                "What's your name?"

                Looking over, the stranger appeared to be blushing though it was too dark in the car to tell. There was a hesitance to him, to his every movement and Wonshik couldn't figure out why he had even said yes if he was this uncomfortable.

                "Jung Taekwoon."

                Wonshik also couldn't get over how gentle his voice was, so much gentler than seemed normal for someone his size.

                "Kim Wonshik."

                There was a small look casted his way. They both knew who he was.

                "So for someone who doesn't like parties, why were you there?" Wonshik was just being nosey but he couldn't help wanting to fill up the silence. He liked quiet but this felt like a different type of quiet. Not necessarily bad, not necessarily good.

                Taekwoon looked like he felt the same, if his glance was anything to go by. He shrugged, continued looking out the window.

                "You live in a nice area," he remarked generally.

                Nodding, Wonshik looked as they passed his gym. "It is. It's expensive as fuck," he snorted. Then he turned slightly. "But I train right there, the grocery store is only like a block away. Everything is within walking distance so. It's definitely worth it."

                "Do you train a lot?"

                "Um." Then, with a laugh. "Yes. All the time."

                There was finally a minute smile on Taekwoon's face and although it was a little lopsided, he wasn't trying to hide it like he had been doing. It was nice to see and, along with his new hair, it made him look… friendly.

                Wonshik felt himself returning it. "No days off," he continued lightly then watched as they turned the corner on his street. "I do the same thing every single day: get up, eat, work out, eat, work out more, eat then go to bed."

                "So then what do you do for fun?" Immediately, his cheeks colored and Wonshik's eyes softened. He seemed embarrassed to sound so juvenile but it was a legitimate question, one the younger man had grown accustomed to answering.

                "I fight."

                Their eyes met, and perhaps it was supposed to be a moment, but it didn't feel like a moment. Not one that Wonshik had ever experienced. It just felt like two people staring into each other, wondering what the other was thinking.

                What _was_ Taekwoon thinking? Was he thinking that only cold blooded people enjoyed fighting? That he must have anger issues to think smashing faces with his bare hands was enjoyable?

                "So you train all year long to do something, what… five times?"

                Despite the amount of sass that could have been in that tone, there was none. It was a simple question and Wonshik found himself watching Taekwoon with a keen eye.

                "It almost sounds as if you don't think it's worth it," he simpered, crossing his arms. They were now partially facing each other, ignoring the windows and the driver and the air.

                "No," Taekwoon said in a long syllable, laughing at himself. Then meeting eyes again, he ran a hand through his hair. "No, that’s not it. I guess, its dedication on your part. You must really love fighting if you're willing to spend all that time training for a match that lasts 25 minutes—if that."

                "You _don't_ think it's worth it," Wonshik laughed.

                Taekwoon grinned, twisting at the hairs on the nape of his neck. He was attractive in this light, the street lamps flooding into the car.

                "I promise, I'm not saying that—"

                "But you're implying it. We all have our opinions, that’s what keeps conversations lively. But that just means I have to prove to you why it is worth it."

                Brown met almost black. "How?"

                "You should come to one of my fights. I have one in Tokyo, in a couple weeks. I could get you seats—"

                Taekwoon was shaking his head, his neck now bent. He tended to do that, almost like a turtle advancing back in his shell.

                "Why not? Do you not like flying?"

                That produced a spread of the brunette's lips and he shook his head, looking over at Wonshik. "I've been to enough fights."

                "Ah," the younger man hummed. "The best friend. Over it already?"

                Taekwoon nodded sincerely and a little gratefully, if Wonshik was reading him correctly. He didn't talk much. Maybe it was nice that he didn't necessarily have to answer with words?

                "I'll give you that. But there's one difference." He zeroed in on Taekwoon's gaze, holding his eyes as he spoke softly. "This is my fight."

                Slowly, the other's lips curled up, his teeth—that Wonshik hadn’t seen revealed in a smile yet—tugged at his bottom lip, the white against pink a little entrancing. He was very attractive.

                And this was the moment. The barometric pressure suddenly dropped, like right before a storm and while there was no humidity, there was a strange feeling that in this taxi, in between them two, a muffled sense of verve gathered and grew as Wonshik felt himself start to grin.

                "I hate to interrupt but," the driver started and both looked forward. He watched them through the rearview mirror. "The meter is still running and I don't mind sitting here, but you'll have to pay."

                Taekwoon released an embarrassed laugh, looking back at Wonshik. He, himself, looked out the window to see they had been sitting in front of his apartment building. Who knows for how long.

                Wonshik threw the other a sheepish look of his own. Thinking about it, he weighed his options because this felt like a double edged sword. He didn't necessarily want to leave so soon. But he also felt like this was a dangerous place to be, his mind already thinking of things he could say to make Taekwoon smile again.

                His watch beeped and both snapped down to it.

                Wonshik started out of the car, feeling the pressure in the atmosphere change once more when he was on the sidewalk, the summer night electric. He bowed to the driver, handing him the fare. Then, before he could fully talk himself out of just walking away completely, he appeared in the open window of the backseat. Taekwoon met his eyes, mouth in a soft flat line.

                "Take care of yourself, Taekwoon-hyung."

*

                When they had dropped off Wonshik, Taekwoon was waiting for the weight to settle but it hadn't. Instead, he just had this strange feeling of unfinished business. Despite his best efforts not to, he looked out the back window as the taxi pulled away. Wonshik was not watching them but he was still standing outside his building entrance, probably trying to get his keys.

                It just felt… incomplete.

                Turning back in his seat, he stared out the side window this time, the scenery changing block by block. His apartment was probably 15 minutes by car but it felt like it was taking them longer.

                Pulling out his phone, that had since been forgotten ever since he had climbed in the cab, Taekwoon looked at it. No messages. No calls.

                Arriving at his own apartment complex, Taekwoon mirrored Wonshik as he bowed to the driver. But when he went to pay, the other shook his head.

                "Your friend already paid."

                Brow furrowing, Taekwoon straightened. "He couldn't have. He didn't know how much it would be—"

                The driver bowed his head with a blush. "He gave me more than enough. Don't worry, your fare has been paid."

*

                Reaching his hand from the fluffy covers the next morning, Taekwoon stretched, groaning at the pop of his elbows. Letting himself yawn, he curled up for a moment before pushing the comforter off. It was summer so the apartment ran hot which he didn’t mind. His feet didn't curl when touching the floor.

                He walked to the bedroom door, unlocking it before proceeding into the short hallway. He arrived at a crossroads: bathroom or kitchen. He needed to use the restroom but he was _hungry_.

                "Taekwoon."

                Bathroom it was, he decided once he heard the scratch of Joonki's voice from the couch. The older man had been up, probably an hour before since he needed to get going to meet his trainer. Like Wonshik had said, no days off.

                Using the restroom, he quickly washed his hands and started into the kitchen, hearing his boyfriend in their shared room, rustling in drawers. Taekwoon opened the refrigerator for some milk, scowling at the almond milk next to his 2%.

                As he struggled to get the cereal on top of the refrigerator, he felt the warmth behind him, long arms reaching for it instead. Bringing it down, Joonki who was now fully dressed handed it to him without a smile.

                But the older man wasn't upset, he was guilty. Choi Joonki was a proud man and his apologies were more of speeches detailing why he had done what he had done, his reasoning for feeling a certain way, blah blah blah. It usually bored Taekwoon to the point of just forgiving him and calling it a day.

                He looked like he was about to start when the brunette held up a hand, taking a seat at the small wooden dining table. Combining the bowl and the ingredients he started eating.

                "Can I at least apologize?"

                "Is it going to waste an hour of my life?"

                Joonki pulled a chair next to him, turning it around and sitting in it backwards. He leaned his head down to catch Taekwoon's eyes.

                "I'm sorry."

                Lips flattening, the brunette narrowed his gaze. He silently asked his question.

                "For not paying you enough attention."

                "Ah, I shouldn't have asked."

                Joonki reached forward. "What do you want me to say?"

                "I want you to be sorry that you didn't pay me _any_ attention. You basically ignored me the entire night. I don't care, Joon, that I'm by myself, you know that. But don't bring me somewhere and just leave me without a life line. You know I don't like parties but you asked me to come anyways. And for what?"

                Taekwoon moved away when his boyfriend came closer. The other sighed, dropping his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you come but I thought it would be fun for us to go together. I know that… I know that sometimes its gets claustrophobic here. I thought being together out there would feel good."

                Joonki was looking thoughtful and though Taekwoon was not necessarily happy, he understood the sentiment behind it. It was just his boyfriend's inability to follow through.

                "Then you should have actually spent time with me. That would have felt good." Before Joonki could say another word, the brunette interrupted him. "I get it. It was a company function, it wasn't date night. But you could have at least tried to include me." Narrowing his eyes, he reached for his boyfriend's collar. "And stop with the fucking girlfriend jokes. I'm not the one in the closet."

                Putting his half eaten, now soggy, cereal in the kitchen sink, Taekwoon moved towards the refrigerator.

                "I'm sorry." Then the other stood as well, grabbing his bag. "Last night didn't feel right without you."

                It was the first night in a long list of nights that he had spent alone, without Joonki. His evenings were always with his boyfriend since that was the only time they had together. It hadn't felt right.

                Plus, he didn't like sleeping with the bedroom door closed and locked. But he would have been damned if the bastard thought he was going to come home hours later and climb into his nice, warm bed.

                "How'd you get home?" Joonki called out as he stood in front of the front door, backpack on and keys swaying in hand.

                Walking towards the bathroom at the end of the hall, Taekwoon replied over his shoulder, "I made a friend."


	5. Four

                A couple days later, the trek to Wonshik's gym was uneventful, though Taekwoon reminded himself that he wanted to stop by the grocery store on the way back. It was on the way back to the station anyways, plus he could make a day of it and visit Hakyeon.

                So with his collapsible rolling cart behind him, he headed into the building that boasted Jiu-Jistu, MMA and Boxing, sliding the large steel door open. Immediately he was hit with sweat and rubber, which, for some reason, the neoprene smelled more pungent than anything else. He heard grunts and slaps and thuds, the brunette taking in the sight. It was a huge room, two tiered but with an open layout. It wasn't much bigger than Joonki's but whereas it was just his boyfriend most days, this looked to be more a training center, multiple people at different stations.

                It was hot, too. Much hotter than it should be inside and he could feel his light t-shirt stick to his back. Sweeping his gaze, Taekwoon looked for Wonshik.

                He found him at a punching bag, body dripping in sweat, his hair pinned back by something, though white blonde wisps that he came loose stuck to his forehead. He was shirtless and continuously striking the hanging bag, his muscles vibrated with the force, his abs flexing as the industrial lights reflected against his skin.

                There was a man standing not too far away, arms crossed and he'd lean in every now and then. Wonshik would stop and listen, chest heaving, tattoos arching at every one of his movements. Taekwoon felt like he was intruding.

                But he needed to pay Wonshik back. He didn't like that the other had covered his fare, hated the thought that he owed someone so even though the blonde was in a training session, the brunette started walking.

                He noticed the eyes, the way people stopped and stared at him. He felt his cheeks burn pink—whether from the heat or the attention.

                The man next to Wonshik noticed Taekwoon first and when his eyes averted, the younger man turned to look, too. His eyes widened then settled into a nice, soft gaze. There was even a shadow of a smile on his small mouth.

                Taekwoon's face flared.

                "Taekwoon-hyung," Wonshik said, bowing his head, finally dropping his hands. "What are you doing here?"

                Looking at the man beside the blonde, Taekwoon swallowed. For some reason, seeing Wonshik here, doing _this_ felt intimate. It felt like when he was in his 10 th year of school and he'd watch his crush practicing with the basketball team, laughing with his friends until he'd catch Taekwoon's shy gaze by the gym entrance. Then he'd smile.

                He and Joonki had just been friends at that point.

                Head clearing, the brunette cleared his throat. Both men were now watching him and he realized he was just standing there. "Oh."

                The unfamiliar one walked away at that and Wonshik laughed, crossing his arms, waiting for Taekwoon's next move. It was unfortunate because with that particular stance, his chest was more prominent and the brunette had been trying so hard not to stare at his body. So hard.

                He had another tattoo on his left pec that spanned a large part of his chest.

                "Is something wrong?"

                Shaking his head, Taekwoon looked down, reaching into his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he reached in and handed a couple of bills towards Wonshik, the other watching his face.

                "Take it," he said after a moment and Wonshik didn't, the bills then pushed towards him, he taking a step back. The money fell to the ground, both looking at it.

                Neither wanting to give in.

                "I'm not accepting this," Wonshik said with a chuckle as he finally bent down, Taekwoon taking the opportunity to run his eyes along the long smooth back. Blinking, he swallowed against the heat in the air.

                "It's disrespectful to not accept money," the brunette said evenly, successfully hiding the fact that Wonshik looked so fucking good. "Plus, I'm your elder."

                Smiling at that, Wonshik looked around then looked down at his shorts. "Where am I supposed to put it?"

                He tried, Taekwoon _really_ tried not to look at the waistband of Wonshik's shorts, the elastic hanging onto his hips, light veins raising out from beneath, lines of sweat following over the ridges of his lower belly. If they were any lower, he was sure he could see a sprinkling of hair—

                "I don't care, I just want you to do something with it."

                Laughing, the blonde held the bills in his hand, catching Taekwoon's eyes. "Well, since I don't want to be disrespectful," he said, bowing deeply. The brunette blushed and looked around him.

                The older man was about to give a short bow as well and bid his goodbyes because there really wasn't any more reason to stay. And the longer he stayed, the more he wanted to see the other keep practicing. He looked so in his element, so natural.

                "Is that a hair clip?"

                The younger man blinked owlishly then reached up, touching the metal bobby pin holding his hair back. He thoroughly blushed. Ripping it out, Wonshik mussed his wet hair, trying to act nonchalant. "Ah, it's just to keep my hair out of my face."

                "You do have longer hair than most."

                "I know, I need to cut it… But I'm just not ready," he said with a charming smile. Taekwoon bit his lips, easily holding back the thought that he liked Wonshik's long hair. It fit his vibe so well.

                "Well, I should be going—"

                "Have you thought about coming to the fight?"

                Raising to look at the blonde's face, he wanted to know if he was serious. Because why would he want Taekwoon to come to one of his fights?

                And why did that thought actually sound appealing?

                "I don't think so—"

                "Why not?"

                Taekwoon looked around, saw the same guy as before staring at them. Wonshik looked over too. Then he looked at the clock. The brunette noticed he was a little obsessed with time.

                "I've already told you. It's just not my thing," he murmured, looking at Wonshik's face.

                Licking his lips, the blonde's mouth curved in one corner. "I have a feeling I can change your mind."

                Neck flushing, Taekwoon didn't break the eye contact. Because this show of arrogance was fun—not off putting or aggravating, but amusing. Wonshik's smile was inviting.

                "I'd have to get airfare and a hotel—"

                "I'll cover it."

                Shaking head, Taekwoon looked away. "No. I couldn't do that."

                Wonshik took a step closer. "What do I have to do to get you there?"

                For some reason, his voice, low and gentle, was all it took to suddenly consider seeing Wonshik fight in Japan. It was familiar, how easy his mind could change. It was also bit worrisome.

                "You know," Wonshik began easily, "when someone doesn't believe you and you have this uncontrollable urge to convince them? Like, beyond everything else, I have this…" he paused, fixing his hands as if to represent something tangible, "this need to show you that those 25 minutes are worth it."

                The blonde, who was watching him with some mix of hope and determination, waited. Taekwoon's shoulders finally slumped.

                "Two tickets."

                Wonshik straightened with a smile and Taekwoon realized he had been leaning in to hear him, their bodies closer a moment ago and he felt a drop of perspiration slip down his spine.

                The younger man started towards a ring in the middle of the room and looked back when Taekwoon didn't follow. "Come on," he encouraged, laughing when the brunette started towards him.

                Reaching down into a bag by the stairs, he pulled out his phone. Unlocking it even though his wrapped hands were still slightly curled, he started tapping. "I'll text you the details and the link when I get the tickets—what's your number?"

                Taekwoon raised an eyebrow. "I don't know that you need my number," he mumbled, suspicious and Wonshik's lips spread though he didn't look up to the other until a minute later.

                "It's just a number."

                Chewing on his lip for a second, Taekwoon nodded once again. Giving it, the brunette started looking around him again. Most everyone's eyes were no longer on them but he still felt a guilty weight settle against him. Wouldn't he be upset if Joonki had given some other man his number?

                Wonshik called Taekwoon and told him to save the number.

*

                Wonshik watched Taekwoon go, only blinking once the sound of the door closing boomed in his ears. Jae was beside him again, he could feel his energy. The older man was curious but a little hesitant.

                Wonshik, on the other hand, was just curious. He hadn't thought he'd see the brunette again.

                Interesting.

*

                "I'm so glad you decided to stop by—I was beginning to think you didn't like me anymore, Taekwoonie."

                That was Cha Hakyeon, Taekwoon's oldest friend in Seoul. The older man, by only mere months, owned a convenience store about 10 minutes in the other direction of the grocery market. It was a small, three aisle store that had all of your necessities: snacks, liquor, condoms. But Hakyeon, in true Cha fashion, had made his father's hard work into something bigger and all his own with his quirky personality and boisterous attitude. Most customers came back just to chat with outgoing owner.

                Taekwoon finished putting some of his cold groceries in the refrigerator at the back of the store, ignoring his friend's dramatics.

                That was how the two had met, four years ago. Taekwoon had just moved to Seoul with Joonki. The pair had started dating a couple months before moving in together, both new to the big city though they had lived outside of it their entire lives. At the time, Joonki had been trying to make the basketball thing work and he had been advised to move out of the suburbs into downtown if he wanted to be taken seriously. It hadn't been a successful venture.

                Taekwoon had met Hakyeon a couple days after settling in, not sparing any time getting lost in the big city before the older man had come to the rescue, pointing him the way home. Then he kindly showed the young Taekwoon around the small downtown neighborhood though he suggested the next time he come this far to use the subway—it was _just_ two stops. Then Hakyeon invited him out for dinner which led to drinks and when both were fantastically inebriated, they had gone for Karaoke.

                What was supposed to be a 10 minute trip to find a laundromat had turned into seven hours with Hakyeon. Taekwoon had said all of 15 words the entire time but it was one of his first enjoyable moments in Seoul.  

                They had been friends ever since. Plus, that was how he had met the others.

                "Earth to Taekwoon?"

                The younger man blinked back to reality, bowing his head slightly as he pushed a package of frozen fruit into the shelf on the door, closing the refrigerator.

                "So what have you been up to lately, stranger?"

                "It's been a week, Hakyeon," Taekwoon deadpanned but the other shook his head.

                "I don't care. You don't ever call, the only time I get to see you is if you stop by the store or I'm having brunch at my place. When am I going to get my invite over?" the older man questioned, crossing his thin arms.

                "I told you," the brunette said, running a hand through his hair as he stood. "I can't do anything at night. And I don't like being at the house during the day."

                "How one sided this friendship is," Hakyeon sighed, smiling once Taekwoon looked his way.

                "Well let me make it up to you."

                "Don't tease."

                Taekwoon laughed. "Do you want to go to Tokyo for a weekend?"

                Hakyeon's mouth dropped open. "Are you still teasing?"

                "I wasn't teasing in the first place," Taekwoon smiled.

                "Then of course!" The older man was about to throw his arms forward, then stopped again. "Wait, you don't like traveling. Why are you going to Tokyo?" Hakyeon asked sharply, a shapely eyebrow raising as he leaned against the threshold to the back. Taekwoon shook his head with a small, embarrassed smile.

                "I was invited to a fight."

                "Ah," his friend sounded relieved. "Who's Joonki beating up on now?"

                Embarrassment turned a bit to shame as Taekwoon's cheeks flushed. Hakyeon didn't pretend to miss it.

                "Taekwoon," he said simply and the brunette let his head fall to the side a little as he chose his words wisely.

                "Joonki's not fighting. Actually, Joonki doesn't know about it."

                "So then who in the world invited you?"

                "Another fighter. Kim Wonshik." Taekwoon started making his way towards the front, suddenly heating up at the words. The guilt had returned.

                Both eyebrows now shooting up, Hakyeon followed the other up to the front. "Another fighter?"

                Immediately, the older man started on his phone, looking Wonshik up. When the results came, both huddled around the small screen, the older man's mouth dropping completely. Taekwoon's lips pursed.

                "You shouldn't have told me this," Hakyeon whispered, thumbs scrolling through his fight pictures, the blonde in nothing but skin tight, thigh long shorts. His tan skin was shiny with sweat and it looked like he was hot to the touch, a provoking look in eyes as he watched his opponent.

                Taekwoon started to feel his body react, his heart starting to pump with something other than blood. It was normal, he reminded himself. Wonshik was very attractive. Lots of men were.

                "He looks familiar, actually."

                "He lives in the Park," he explained, remembering the nice apartment complex he had seen nights before.

                Warm eyes caught his. "So, how'd you two meet?"

                Snorting, Taekwoon rolled his own. "We didn't meet—not like that, I mean. I recognized him from the fight."

                The other straightened. "The fight?"

                "He was Joonki's first." At Hakyeon's understanding, Taekwoon nodded. "I know. That's why I haven't said anything yet."

                "You know, you will have to, right?" Taekwoon was silent so his friend did not further push. Instead, leaned over the counter. "So did you give this Wonshik a stern talking to for beating up on poor Joonkiyah?"

                "Don't call him that," he warned, Hakyeon laughing him off.

                Both looked to the entrance of the tiny store as the bell rang out, a customer smiling widely at Hakyeon. He waved back.

                "So did you tell him about himself?" Eyes lighting up, "Did you tell him Joonki was—"

                "No," Taekwoon said quickly, quietly as he felt his neck start to bend down. "He thinks he's a friend."

                Tutting his tongue, Hakyeon moved him over easily as the customer came to pay for a couple of bottles of Soju.

                "Party tonight at your place?" the older man asked playfully as the woman giggled, but Taekwoon wasn't paying attention. Instead, he had moved out of the way and in front of the small sliver of window that wasn't covered by flyers, signs and promotions. He stared at the building across the way, absently thinking of how Wonshik was training as they spoke. He reached in his pocket and felt for his phone.

                "So why does he think Joonki is just a friend?"

                "Because," the brunette said distractedly. "I told him he was."

                "Taek-woon," Hakyeon gasped slightly, coming to his side. "That's as good as cheating, you know," he chided.

                Taekwoon sighed melodramatically. Sometimes, Hakyeon could be a handful. "It is not. I have to protect Joonki. Plus, sharing a cab isn't illegal."

                "You two shared a cab?"

                "Yes, that’s how he asked me if I wanted to come to the fight. You're going, right?" he asked, realizing that Hakyeon hadn't actually answered.

                "I do have friends in Tokyo that I haven't seen in some time. And I could get Sanghyuk to work an extra weekend," he mused, tapping his pointed chin. Hakyeon had a perfectly shaped face.

                "It'll be fun."

                The older man laughed easily, the sound bringing a smile to Taekwoon's face. They were such opposites that it was nice to know that he didn't need to be anyone he wasn't to surround himself with people who supported him.

                "The fact that you are trying to convince me to travel to Japan with you is reason enough to say yes. Tell me when and I'll be ready."

                Shuffling slightly, mostly from Hakyeon throwing an arm around him, Taekwoon nodded. Then he looked back outside.

                Selfishly, he wondered if Wonshik was talking about him to someone, too.


	6. Five

                Taekwoon saw his gaze burn as he stood there, chest heaving as he gulped down air, his hair now clumped in sweat that dripped down his face. Adrenaline and the mania of the crowd painted him gold. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, his mouth parted. His eyes glowed and for some reason, though Wonshik wasn't, it felt like he was looking right at him.

                Taekwoon's body tingled, the hair at the nape of his neck bristled and he felt his lips tremble with unspent energy.

                Then, Wonshik turned his face and caught sight of him. Taekwoon ached as they announced the winner.

*

_Earlier that night…_

                "Wait, where are our seats?"

                The usher looked down at the tickets once more, Hakyeon peering over the smaller man's shoulder as well.

                He said something in English and both just looked at each other, the foreign language and the fact that there was chatter all around them making it hard to understand. "Down there," he said slowly, loudly and Hakyeon nodded, pointing. The man took his arm and pointed to the other side. His friend grinned and gave a thumbs up sign.

                "Remember," the staff member said in English that both understood. "Floor level."

                Taekwoon's eyes slowly weaved down to the ringside seats. They were still beyond a divider but they were the first row behind the announcers. Where the wives sat. Where the sponsors sat. Where the rich people sat.

                They started down, still unsure of where they were going. The noise from the crowd was gaining in pitch and Taekwoon just held on to his ticket, fingers gripping into the print as if he was afraid to lose it.

                Asking another usher, Hakyeon took the lead, going to where the man pointed. They traveled down a set of stairs to the final level, the ground, and Taekwoon took in a breath. He took ahold of Hakyeon's shirt as they walked, feeling the attention. He was used to walking close, Joonki's seats always a couple rows back. But never ground level.

                Hakyeon looked over, grabbing and pulling him along. He held him to his side as they finally made it to their seats, counting as they walked along. He gave Taekwoon an excited 'Do you see where the fuck we're sitting?' look. The brunette finally smiled, nodding as he took his seat.

                The older man sat down as well and looked around, getting comfortable while trying to scope out their surroundings. They had only come for the main event, knowing there would be at least two fights before Wonshik's main event. The arena was now filled to capacity, the late comers having arrived and the patrons from the first two bouts now flooded back to their seats. Quickly, looking around, Taekwoon got that familiar pinch in his stomach.

                With Joonki's fights, he had always gotten the anxious nausea along with the knot of anticipation. Though he always felt special knowing it was _his_ boyfriend up there, skipping in that ring, Taekwoon couldn't help the nervous feeling watching Joonki get hit. With squinted eyes and bated breath, he'd wince at every punch and kick and twist, finally unable to watch. It was with pride to watch his lover win and it was with disappointment to see him lose. But he went through so many emotions in such a short amount of time that the excitement usually didn't register.

                Tonight, though, he wasn't here for his boyfriend.

                Suddenly, the lights cut and the crowd's volume heightened, the darkness stirring the exhilaration in the arena and Taekwoon chuckled when he heard Hakyeon scream, waving his hands.

                He, himself, felt his heart start to pump faster, his limbs starting to tingle. He hadn't felt this before and he licked his lips the longer it stayed dark. Then the lights flashed, once… twice and the cries got louder.

                The strung lights above the octagon burst to life, a secondary roar from the crowd as the monitors above the ring snapped on. The challenger's face came on to a small response, the man from Latvia still relatively unknown.

                Then, Wonshik's face appeared and Taekwoon's head snapped to his left as the people behind them shouted at the tops of their lungs. It caused a low rumble throughout the arena and the brunette put a hand to his thigh, feeling his smile twitch a little at the vibration. Hakyeon wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he hollered.

                Laughing, the younger man shook him off, continuing to look up at the screens. The Latvian flag flashed. The Korean flag flashed. Then the lights shut off again.

                The energy picked up a little but when the beginnings of the challenger's music came, there was a decided hush. Taekwoon, again, looked around at the deliberate decrease. Hakyeon leaned in.

                "Why isn't anyone yelling?"

                Taekwoon shrugged, knowing it was mostly an Asian crowd but normally, there was still some attendance for the challenger. Hell, most times it was hometown/home country chants that drowned out the music. It was eerie how the song boomed without much of a reaction. It was also creating a sense of anticipation as if something big was about to happen. Like a calm before the storm.

                With the lights now back on, the young fighter, tall and thin, came to the center of the arena, eyes unchanging as he was checked by the staff and allowed into the octagon. He danced around the ring as the secondary lights came on and they watched the Latvian fighter side step around the perimeter, stretching and conditioning. Hakyeon yawned exaggeratedly and Taekwoon laughed, hiding his face as he snickered.

                Then the lights cut and they were blanketed in black. The crowd was buzzing again though it was two octaves higher than before. Taekwoon bunched his shoulders around his ears and grabbed his thigh, out of a habit he hadn't realized he had developed. Hakyeon looped his arm through the brunette's and for a moment, he felt young again. Like a kid at his favorite artists' concert and the energy in the arena built and built and built until—

                Suddenly, a low beat started, a general instrumental in the dark for before it fell out and a simple eight count sounded out in its place. The lights flashed white, blue and red along with the notes and looking towards the front, Taekwoon felt his smile start to widen. The crowd's cheering reached a fever pitch at the final words that came pulsing out the speakers.

_You can run but you can't hide._

                The beat dropped as the primary overhead lights came swirling on then, pressing everyone into a frenzy. The monitors above them showed Wonshik starting to head down the walkway just as he appeared in the flesh at the entrance. Arms reached out towards him as he ambled towards the octagon, head bobbing to the beat that banged against the walls. People were going insane as he descended, hoodie covering his head that hung low, arms moving at his side. Security was behind him and batting away hands that stretched too close but a couple touched his head and bouncing shoulders.

                Taekwoon felt his stomach flop as he bit his lip. He had shared a cab with this man, sat a foot away from him. Shared a smile with him.

                Wonshik made it to the platform right outside the ring and Taekwoon's eyes found him on the floor rather than the suspended monitors. He could barely make him out since he was on the other side and crowded by his team and the UFC staff but he saw little glimpses. For some reason, he didn't want to miss any of him in real life.

                Standing on his tip toes (not remembering when he had actually gotten to his feet), he felt Hakyeon pulling on him slightly as he too tried to catch a peek.

                Then, the moment everyone had been shouting for arrived: Wonshik jumped up the stairs in to the octagon, raising his fist as he looked to the crowd that seized. Another rumble, this time accented with the stomping, resounded throughout the arena and Taekwoon could have sworn the ground shook. Wonshik's hand still raised, he changed his fist into the sign for the number 1—the crowd lost it and the brunette felt his cheeks heat up in response as the blonde looked around.

                Then, his eyes dropped to the challenger and his gaze darkened into something dangerous.

                Taekwoon's breath was stolen as he watched him through the cage, the younger man prowling the half octagon, loosening his muscles but with that stare still fixed on his opponent and the brunette was suddenly frightened. In the best way possible.

                This felt like a different Wonshik.

                He wore only black shorts that stopped mid-thigh, spandex hugging the contours of his legs. His ankles and wrists were tied with black cloth and his blonde hair was tied back. Feeling yet another smile bubble forth, he thought back to the younger man saying he wasn't ready to cut his hair yet.

                Wonshik's music ended and both fighters eventually made their way to the middle, the announcer introducing them. Taekwoon closed his eyes as the audience roared at his name, trying as he might to quell the elated feeling in his chest. Japan seemed to love him.  

                Suddenly, there was a huge wave of boos as Wonshik's opponent didn't touch gloves when the ref gave them the option. It was common courtesy but it amped up the tension and Taekwoon felt the anxiety grow within his own body.

                Then he blinked because within seconds of the first bell, Wonshik was pressing the other man against the cage nearest them, taking headshots as the fighter tried to deflect the attack. The other caught Wonshik with a good rib hit and the blonde backed off, curled fists raised as he shuffled towards the middle. His hair had come loose and he threw his head to the side to remove it from his face.

                The opponent started after him but then retreated again, showing his own strategy. Wonshik advanced, forcing the Latvian fighter to throw a quick right and attempt at an uppercut but Wonshik ducked the first and blocked the second, slamming his forearm into the other man's ribs. Instantly, the challenger brought his arm down to protect his chest and sides.

                Wrong move.

                Wonshik did a quick one-two jab of his own: the first barely blocked, the second landing square on the man's jaw. The Latvian stumbled and brought his hands up only halfway. The blonde drew back his right fist, using the slow reaction time of the other to allow him to push off with his left leg, launching himself into the side of the man's head.

                The challenger's limbs fell and dangled at the impact to his equilibrium, Wonshik not wasting any time as he grabbed the back of his neck. The blonde yanked the man down at the same time he fired his knee upwards. It connected with the other's nose, the crunch of his bones masked by the hysteria of the arena—the announcers, the audience, the teams.

                One knee, two knees. His opponent went limp on the last one and fell to the ground unceremoniously. Wonshik scrambled to climb on top of him for a third strike when the referee grabbed him, holding his stomach and wrenching him to the side. The official then bent down to the Latvian fighter's side but Taekwoon wasn't watching him. He was staring at Wonshik, a sheen of perspiration painting his upper body, panting as he paced the barricade set by the staff that rushed to the challenger.

                The blonde was called to his side where his trainer, the one Taekwoon had seen that day, stood but Wonshik wasn't retreating, instead waiting by the official, like an animal on alert just in case its prey came back to life.

                That would not be the case as the referee raised his hand, waving his palm in a motion signaling the end of the match. Wonshik's shoulders dropped, body pushing out a scream in victory as his muscles strained with adrenaline. Coming back down, he smiled with lopsided relief and genuine elation as he immediately jumped over to his team, hopping up to reach over the cage walls and grabbing onto anyone who was there, toes curling into the diamond holes of the cage walls. Hands—so many sets—all pat any part they could touch of Wonshik, reaching for him as well. Once his team and he were all there, they bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

                Then they erupted in a three-shout chant, Wonshik bouncing back out to the middle of the octagon, breathing heavily, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he looked to his opponent again who was now standing, blood pouring from his nose and mouth, painting the lower part of his face and dripping down his chest. He was trying to protest the end but even his own manager was shaking flattened fingers at his neck, signaling it was over. The Latvian punched the cage and spewed blood with his curses. His eyes found Wonshik's.

                The blonde smirked.

                Taekwoon closed his mouth, not even realizing it had been hanging open.

*

                Wonshik raised the bottle of champagne in his hand, soaking up the energy as everyone around him sang and danced to the music spilling from the speakers on either side of them. The small club's walls shook with bass as he stood on the couch, hollering in celebration. Even Jae was shouting.

                He hadn't thought he'd lose. But he didn't think he'd come away with only one hit and a 32 second TKO. He hadn't thought tonight would be so exciting.

                There was a girl that climbed up with him and shot him a look.

                But he wasn't thinking of her. No, when she slinked up closer, reaching to lean against him, Wonshik was thinking about Taekwoon.

*

                Thoughtful brown eyes watched the ceiling. It wasn't anything pretty but he enjoyed that it was something different and not that damned crack in his bedroom's own.

                It was three am but he couldn't sleep. Hakyeon had since left with his friends who were from another part of the large metro area and had come in to visit with him. They were going out and since the older man knew his friend well, he hadn't bothered asking him to come. The brunette had almost considered it, knowing there were stores of energy in him from the match and perhaps he would enjoy being out and about.

                Then he remembered this was Hakyeon and his friends who were very much like him and thought it was probably best to play it safe. So Taekwoon told him to have fun anyways in which Hakyeon gave him a hug and told him to have a good night staring at the ceiling.

                It had been a joke, a long running one, but here he was, looking up from his bed.

                He couldn't fall asleep, though. He was too electrified from the fight, the energy building inside the room even as he laid there. The memory of it was enough to recreate the night around him and he imagined Wonshik's face, up above as he watched him on the monitor while he spoke in his post-fight interview.

                He was saying things in English, pausing every few words to breathe, eyes bouncing from the man to the audience to the camera. He had been crowned the winner by TKO and his team had all come behind him, surrounding him in hugs and slaps. Eventually, after everything had settled down, he had went to talk with announcer.

                Taekwoon closed his eyes and watched as Wonshik smiled with an open mouth, bringing his shirt up to his face to wipe it off as the man with the microphone asked a final question.

                Wonshik laughed and it was music to Taekwoon's ears, even though the crowd was still so loud. Then he looked straight into the camera and grinned.

                In Korean, he spoke, voice deep. "Korea, I love you. I hope your son has made you proud."

                He bowed, and for some reason, that feeling of pride swelled in Taekwoon's own chest, even now. Smiling up at the ceiling, the brunette opened his eyes. He had certainly convinced him it was worth it.

                Phone buzzing by his ear, Taekwoon looked over and grabbed at it with lazy fingers. Turning it around, he figured it was Hakyeon though he hadn't expected to see him until the morning. When Hakyeon went out, he stayed out.

                Instead, it was a FaceTime call and immediately his brow furrowed. It was Joonki and there was a split second where he didn't want to answer. But then he rationally decided this was his boyfriend, he _did_ want to speak to him. Rolling over, he swiped to answer and set the phone to lean against the headboard, pulling a pillow under his chest as he watched the frame appear and Joonki's smile fill up the screen.

                "Scoot back," Taekwoon said easily. Then laughed despite himself as the other just got closer. Joonki eventually settled back and looked at him, eyes softening.

                "I miss you. Come home," he murmured leaning against his arms, in the same position as Taekwoon.

                "It's one night—"

                "One night too long." Sighing, Joonki moved his jaw back and forth on his forearm. "How's Tokyo?"

                Taekwoon shrugged his shoulders. "It's good, it's humid. We're going sightseeing tomorrow so I'll send you pictures."

                "Ah, so what'd you do tonight?"

                Blinking, the younger man looked to the side of the screen then back at his handsome boyfriend. "Just went out with Hakyeon. Got dinner and stuff. Joon, there is this fish here… I don't know what it's called but you'd love it."

                Joonki nodded, chewing on his thumb. He only did that when he was nervous.

                "Don't do that," Taekwoon reprimanded softly, then caught his gaze. "What's wrong?"

                Shaking his head, Joonki sighed. The brunette raised an eyebrow and his boyfriend laughed. After so many years, Taekwoon knew him like the back of his hand.

                But before the older man could respond, Taekwoon received a text message. From Wonshik.

                Trying hard as he might, he worked to control his reaction, looking at Joonki. "Hold on," he instructed as he opened the message. The other immediately protested.

                "Don't put me on pause, I hate that," he laughed, his whine light hearted and Taekwoon returned easily, smiling. Though there was a blush on his cheeks now and Joonki took notice, his smile dying.

                "Taekwoon."

                Eyes finding his boyfriend's, he readied himself. Because Wonshik was still in front of him and he fought to clear his thoughts. Joonki deserved that much.

                "Yes?"

                There was a little bit of a shuffle as the other man changed positions, settling on his back, holding the phone at arm's length.

                "You're so gorgeous."

                Blushing again, Taekwoon lowered his head, mumbling a thank you. But Joonki wasn’t finished and the younger man could feel the weight of his next words.

                "Are you happy?"

                Feeling his lips twitch down, he watched the phone, laying his head along the pillow beneath him.  He should lie and say yes, that he was never happier. But Taekwoon was hardly able to hide his feelings that the thought of having to lie any _more_ tonight was too heavy.

                "Sometimes."

                Joonki's eyes shut as if he was surprised at the answer. He shouldn't have been, not if he was willing to ask such a question.

                "I'll make you happy again, I promise," Joonki said suddenly and it broke a little bit of Taekwoon. "I know you went to Tokyo to get a break from me and I understand. Things will change, ok? When you get back, it'll be different. And the next time you go traveling, we'll go together."

                The other was looking right at the screen and his eyes were pleading. They couldn't go through this again, those eyes screamed and the brunette nodded.

                "I can do better, too."

                 "No, Taek, you're doing the most. You're always there for me. You're up when I'm up, you make sure I'm comfortable and cared for… You put up with the constant pressure I'm under and I don't say thank you enough. I'll make this better, I promise."

                 Taekwoon felt tears start to swim forward so he shut his own eyes. The sentiment was nice, but despite its desperation, he couldn't seem to believe it. Instead, it felt like the sensation of saying the same word so many times that it no longer sounded like the word anymore. He had heard this too many times before that it no longer sounded right.

                  All he could respond with was, "We'll try to make this better together." Then, "Joonki… just don't make promises you can't keep, ok?"

                His boyfriend nodded, running a hand over his short hair. He couldn't seem to smile and neither could Taekwoon. Eventually, they got off the phone with a whispered goodnight.

                The brunette turned onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling, the pleasant feelings from before gone, only the spread of the drab beige tiles. Picking up his phone, he opened Wonshik's message again.

_Are you ready to admit that was worth it? :)_

                Taekwoon had responded with a no. Then a yes accompanied with a smiley face, too. Then he had asked what Wonshik was doing awake.

_Celebrating is a requirement. What are you doing up, hmmm?_

                Taekwoon hadn't answered and he didn't even want to now. How could he carry on a conversation, flirting with this man while his boyfriend was at home, alone, thinking everything was his fault?

                Most of it was. But Taekwoon was no saint either and he shouldn't be making the situation worse.

                Another text came in, adding to the list of their messages.

                _What hotel are you staying at? I'm headed back to mine. I could stop by._  

                Taking a deep breath, Taekwoon started typing. Then erased it and tapped four simple words. Then he pressed send and bit at the corner of his lip, eyes narrowing on the screen.

                Wonshik was typing and the brunette winced, preparing himself for the reply. Then those three dots vanished and didn't appear again.

*

                Wonshik was walking out of the club, pulling his phone out to text Taekwoon. He was drunk but blissfully unaware of just how much so. He had always called it the sweet spot, especially since he didn't drink much. He wondered if Taekwoon drank.

                The thought bringing a smile to his face, he looked down, sending a simple text asking where the brunette was staying and that he could stop by. He laughed at himself, stumbling for a second before righting himself. The man had actually come to Tokyo to watch him fight. And what a fucking show it was, if he could admit it so humbly. He felt his adrenaline high starting to spike. It was times like these where he just wanted the nights to stretch forever.

                Looking at his screen, he saw that Taekwoon was responding. His smile widened before instantly falling, his eyes re-reading the simple message.

                _I have a boyfriend._

                Blinking, he read it once more. Then again.

                It wasn't surprising. Taekwoon was tall and attractive and soft and… And it wasn't surprising he was taken. But then, why the attention he had been giving Wonshik? Why come to the fight?

                Silently, his rational side calmed down the other, reminding himself Wonshik had _asked_ Taekwoon to come. And eventually the brunette had relented. And the extra attention? It was a couple moments over the last couple of months. That was hardly considered extra.

                But still, it felt… disappointing.

                Perhaps because Wonshik didn't want the night to end. Perhaps because Taekwoon was something different.

                Wonshik was starting to respond when he stopped. The brunette had asked for two tickets, had he brought his boyfriend? He remembered seeing Taekwoon in the crowd but he hadn't bothered to notice anyone beside him.

                Was he lying next to his boyfriend as Wonshik texted him in the middle of the night, asking to stop by?

                Erasing what he had written, he pocketed his phone and climbed into the dark shuttle waiting to take him back to the hotel. It was a good thing he was going back to his room to sleep; he had a morning flight anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what did you think of the fight scene? 0.0


	7. Six

                It had been five weeks since Taekwoon had gone to Tokyo to watch Wonshik's fight. They hadn't talked since, the blonde never responding to his text. It was for the best— he was in a relationship, he needed to act like it. It certainly wasn't fair to Joonki.

                Or Wonshik.

                Plus, his boyfriend had made good on his idle chatter about making Taekwoon happy. Or at least, he had _tried_ to. But that was the problem with the older man—he could never seem to follow through. He'd start off great: they'd establish date night where they would go out to a different restaurant every other Friday, they'd try to make new dishes together when Joonki could and they had even taken a day trip to Jeju Island together.

               But after the first few weeks, it was apparent that those things were becoming less of a priority. Naturally, Taekwoon understood that they couldn't go taking day trips or trying different dive bars all the time. They had their responsibilities and if Joonki wanted to get his name out there in the UFC, Taekwoon would have to come second sometimes.

                Not all the time, though.

                There needed to be _some_ balance. It couldn't be one week chock full of improvements and then the next nine with nothing. It felt like those initial tries were just to pacify Taekwoon until the next time he got upset again and the cycle repeated itself.

                But an even more threatening thought had crept forward over the last week, one that spoke to his lack of trying. Taekwoon didn't know how to fix them. And unfortunately, he was starting to question if he even wanted to.

                That was something he couldn't hold on to, though. Because he owed it to Joonki to try. Three years ago, when they had been on the brink of falling to pieces because of Taekwoon, he had promised his boyfriend he was going to try to do everything he could to make them work. Unlike Joonki, he did not break his promises.

                That included not reaching out to Wonshik. Because what good would have come out of it?

                So imagine his surprise when Joonki came home from training, talking about going to a fight the next night—one that all of the Korean fighters were going to attend. Too tired to even stand, his boyfriend fell into the couch, chest raising slowly as Taekwoon came over and sat on his lap. They had been trying to have more sex— it seemed like that could help, too. But the brunette just hadn't been in the mood and when he was, Joonki was too tired.

                This was one of those times.

                "Babe, I can barely move my legs," Joonki mumbled, eyes already closed. Taekwoon sighed and climbed off.

                Then he had stopped and turned to look at his sleeping boyfriend. Had he just said _all_ of the Korean fighters?

                "Joon, what fight are you going to?"

                Joonki stayed silent so Taekwoon walked over to the furniture, smacking his face lightly. Still nothing.

                "Dinner's ready."

                "Huh?" the older man asked, blinking as he stretched out, legs hanging off the couch. "Dinner?"              

                "Not yet," Taekwoon lied, then leaned over. "What did you say about tomorrow?"

                "Oh. I have to go to this fight. Sanghoon wants me to go to show my support," the older man mumbled, closing his eyes once more. "All of the Korean MMA fighters are going. It's some thing in solidarity, I don’t really care but I don’t want to be the only…"

                The brunette stood. Wonshik would probably be there, then. Maybe.

                Immediately, Taekwoon was transported back in time to that night. To the absolute energy and the amazing moment when Wonshik, victorious and handsome, had said he loved Korea.

                "Can I go?"

                Joonki opened his eyes at that. Then his face softened. "You want to go?"

                "Joon," Taekwoon said in warning, a blush brushing his cheeks.

                "Well, I'm already taking Namseon but I think I can get some extra. You can invite one of the girls if you want—"

                His boyfriend received a fist to the chest. He hated when Joonki called his friends girls.

                "You're such a hypocrite," Taekwoon spat and then started off into the kitchen, turning only when he heard Joonki's apologies. "Fix your own dinner. I'm going to bed."

 

*

 

                Taekwoon sat in front of his keyboard, taking the protective cover off. He hadn't touched it in months. Seven to be exact.

                He hadn't been inspired. Before, he could write a couple songs a week, music the only real escape he had from life. It had been his coping mechanism during secondary school when he was coming to terms that he liked boys, worse yet, liked his best friend. It had been the way he had gotten through his darkest times in his and Joonki's relationship. It was the way he felt productive.

                Letting his fingers flit over the plastic, wishing it was ivory, Taekwoon sighed. It was the excuse he used when people asked him what he did all day. He composed, he'd say. As if he was still doing it. But he hadn't written anything in a year. Hadn't touched his keyboard in seven months.

                Stagnant wasn't the word.

                But tonight, he got the urge to play. Pushing the vinyl of the covering to the floor, he took a seat in the guest bedroom, pulling up his chair. Underneath the keyboard were sheets of previously written songs, some finished, some not. He rifled through them slowly, smiling at some, frowning at others. He pulled one piece out—a snippet of a melody he hadn't been able to get out of his mind. Reading it, his lips cracked a little as they curved.

                Setting the sheet in the stand, he cracked his knuckles. Then his fingers poised above the keys.

                He didn't press down.

                A moment later, he brought his hands back to his lap.

                Then, he reached over and grabbed his phone from the bed, where he had thrown it when he had entered. Now, he scrolled, thumb hesitating just as he had done earlier. But he tapped Wonshik's name easily, squeezing his eyes together before he pressed the send button. It was just a simple hi text.

                Releasing a deep breath, the brunette threw the device back on the bed, raising from the seat at the keyboard. Whether he answered or not, Taekwoon didn't regret it. He hadn't stopped thinking of the blonde and it felt like a relief, finally getting to say something.

                Leaving the room, Taekwoon didn't see the messages illuminate his phone a moment later. Three in all:

                _Hi._

_I was going to be an asshole and ask who this was lol. But I'm not a jerk :)_

_Its nice to see you didn't delete my number either._

 

*

 

                When Taekwoon had finally found his phone in the guest bedroom, after he had brushed his teeth and washed his face, getting ready to climb in bed next to a passed out Joonki, he had the three unread messages. By the end of the third, he was smiling, his fingers already tapping away, ending the simple 'That wouldnt have been nice' with a smiley face.

                Phone buzzing in his hand, Taekwoon curled his legs underneath him on the bed, knowing Joonki wouldn't notice his absence for now. Sanghoon could be relentless and for the first time in a long time, Taekwoon was glad the older man had been too tired to apologize for his inability to think before he spoke.

                Taekwoon read Wonshik's next message with a smile that turned down quickly. He was saying that this was a pleasant surprise. The brunette squeezed his eyes close. It was pleasant, but for him, it was not a surprise. The fighter had been on his mind for weeks now, stuck in the back of his brain like a thought that wouldn't dislodge. And the fact that Joonki had said one thoughtless thing and suddenly, the thought of Wonshik swooped to the forefront, moving his fingers, curling his lips.

                Where was his will power?

                Where was his determination?

                He had none. All he had was the sudden urge to see Wonshik.

                Taekwoon's thumbs tapped. He asked if they could get a drink.

                Head hanging, he immediately wished to take it back. But he watched the screen through squinted eyes. Anticipation popped in his chest, almost painfully as his stomach flopped, eyes watching the white of the background.

                Then those three dots appeared, letting him know Wonshik was typing.

                His phone buzzed in his palm and Taekwoon's brow furrowed.

                _What did he do?_

For some reason, the simple message made him smile at the same time it made his eyes tear, bringing his leg up to rest his chin against his knee. Pressing forward, he willed away the emotion. Part of it was from disgrace—how easily it had been for him to give in. Part of it was from sadness—Joonki couldn't win, could he?

                The rest—the smile— was from how in tune Wonshik was with the situation. A stranger, for all accounts and purposes, had asked the right question when his boyfriend of four years, his best friend of 15 years, couldn't even pretend to care.

                'Nothing' was Taekwoon's reply.

                Wonshik's silence was moving and the brunette found himself biting on the side of his cheeks when he finally admitted that he was just frustrated. His boyfriend had called his friends girls.

                _Are they?_

                Shoulders bunching at the memory, Taekwoon typed that they were gay—not girls.

                The older man didn't know why he was even having this conversation. Just knew there was something keeping him in the guest bedroom as he watched his phone, feeling his skin tingle with each response.

                _456 Daesagwan-ro_

_Seoul, 555-123_

                Before Taekwoon could process the address, Wonshik sent a follow up text.

                _Its to a café. I don't want to get you in trouble._

The brunette sighed, closing his eyes against the smile that wanted to surface. But his legs moved on their own, his arms stretched on their own as he dressed in the bathroom, his eyes slid back on their own. He found Joonki still asleep.

                Keys in hand, Taekwoon looked back at the lump in his bed, his jacket suddenly hot and he remembered a time like this. In fact, he was having a bout of déjà vu as he watched his boyfriend sleep in their shared bed, in their shared room. The air around him turned stale too quickly.

                Slipping out of his coat, he let it drop to the floor. Padding over to the bed, Taekwoon pulled back the covers and dipped in behind his boyfriend, leaning his forehead against the other's shoulder. His smell invaded his senses, bringing that comfortable wrap of familiarity. This had been home for so long. This was still home.

                Joonki brought his arms around Taekwoon as he turned in the embrace, bringing the other against his chest.

                This was still home.

 

_*_

 

                Something in Wonshik was relieved when he didn't receive a response from Taekwoon. He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was after 10:30 pm, beyond his normal schedule and his body was warring with his mind, trying to get him to sleep. But he couldn't, not after the text message conversation he'd just had.

                It had been out of nowhere that Taekwoon had messaged him, the cute little hi immediately producing a chuckle. He could picture the shy look as the brunette typed, probably biting his lip. Then Wonshik wondered why he was even entertaining such a thought.

                The older man had a boyfriend and it became evident that there was trouble in paradise which was why Wonshik was receiving a late night text.

                But why waste his time on a man he hadn’t seen in over a month? Who was he to Taekwoon? Who was Taekwoon to him?

                For some reason, though, Wonshik couldn’t stop replying. A sliver of him that begged for a distraction enjoyed that the brunette had thought about him. Because the blonde had certainly thought about him. Not often, just when he'd see someone tall or when he'd watch his fight in Tokyo—which he did more than he could justify.

                His other thoughts were ruled by his upcoming match again Guillaume St. Francois and he forced himself to concentrate on sleep. The fight was in a month and he needed to stay focused.

                Closing his eyes, Wonshik sighed. He didn't have time for Taekwoon's handsome face at a time like this.

 

*

 

                But Taekwoon's handsome face was exactly what he'd see at the fight the next night in the Seoul Dome Arena. And across the crowd, he couldn't help the way the young man's memory morphed into reality and he was much more handsome than Wonshik had remembered.

                Taekwoon's face would also distract him the week after, at the grocery store on an evening run and this time they didn't have hundreds of people in between them as excuse. So Wonshik had said hello.

                The brunette had returned it and told him he hoped he wasn’t upset with him.

                "Why would I be upset with you?"

                Looking to the side, Taekwoon pursed his lips. "Because of that… night."

                "I’m assuming you made the right decision."

                Soft eyes found his. "It felt like it."

                "Then, it was," Wonshik said gently, attempting at a smile though he wanted to be closer all of a sudden. Because for the first time since finding out Taekwoon was untouchable, they were in front of each other and Wonshik wanted to touch him.

                “I should go.” Wonshik had made a hasty exit, rushed excuses as he started towards his home. Changing quickly, he forced his tired body on a five mile run.

                After, dripping with sweat, he finally took his phone out. Standing with a hand to his hip, he read the message on his home screen.

                _If we see each other again, then we should go for coffee._

That brought them to the present, outside in the August heat, both standing right before the entrance of that grocery store. Unbeknownst to the brunette, Wonshik had started going every day.

                "So does this mean you owe me a coffee?"

                The two had been texting, though it wasn't regular—just once or twice. But Wonshik noticed he had watched his phone with something akin to excitement, realizing he would stay up late, wondering if he had gotten a text back.

                It had been a long time since he'd been eager.

                But the conversations, short and sweet, were enough to wet his appetite and he found himself starting to look forward to hearing from the young man with the mysterious boyfriend.

                "I don’t think that's what we agreed to," Taekwoon said softly, mouth curving in a small simper. He was dressed for the weather—cut off shirt showing off the angles of his broad shoulders and arms, long jeans shorts hugging his thighs before they stopped at his knees. He wore white Keds and there was something attractive about the ensemble that produced a smile on Wonshik's own face.

                "I could have sworn…" he laughed.

                Taekwoon ran a hand through his chocolate hair, combing it down over his forehead. It looked soft to the touch and Wonshik shouldered his duffel bag, the weight resting against his ass.

                "Fine. Come on, then."

                They had walked to a small café a block away, right around the corner from the grocery store. It was busy with students that were taking study breaks and first dates that were counting on the energy to get them through the nerves. Wonshik liked being surrounded by the people, looking over with a smile. Taekwoon, on the other hand…

                "We can sit outside," the blonde suggested seeing the brunette’s worried expression, pointing to the patio seating. Surely, there wasn't many people out there since it was so hot. The older man had already broken out in a sweat having been inside and with the way he was looking around them, eyes shooting to the young girl who bumped his shoulder, Wonshik figured the perspiration wasn't from the temperature.

                "Or we can go somewhere else—"

                "No, we can sit outside."

                Luckily, as they each got their drinks, the sun was hidden behind a cloud and a breeze was making its way through Seoul, bringing news of an impending rain. Taekwoon tilted his head towards it, Wonshik frowned.

                The rain did a number on his abused knuckles and he didn't need the pain distracting him from training.

                Looking up from his hands, Wonshik noticed the brunette watching him. Thinking back, the older man did that a lot and when Wonshik would catch him, he'd look away. But what was more was the look in his eyes. His gaze was never one that spoke of having a boyfriend.

                Lifting his hat and brushing his blonde hair back, he replaced the cap. "Are things better?”

                Taekwoon looked back at that and though there was a bit of rouge on his cheeks, whether from the shame or the heat, he nodded.

                Then shook his head.

                “I don’t know, honestly.” Then he looked down. “And I don’t know why it's so easy to tell you about it.”

                The corner of Wonshik’s mouth lifted. “I must have one of those faces.”

                Drinking, Taekwoon didn’t remark on the why but when he met the blonde’s eyes again, there was a bit of mirth in them. His shoulders were dusted with red from the sun and there was sweat at his temple, darkening his hair. Wonshik wondered what it tasted like.

                “How long have you been together?”

                “I don’t really want to talk about him.”

                It wasn’t mean but it was short and Taekwoon took a deep breath, his chest heaving. Wonshik nodded, but he also didn’t like _not_ talking about him. It was a good reminder that the brunette was still off limits.

                “What do you want to talk about then?”

                “Do you have any fights coming up?”

                Laughing an amused chuckle, Wonshik took a quick sip of his sugary drink. Jae was going to beat him for drinking something so unhealthy for him so close to such an important match. Then again, he should have also been home, cooking chicken and asparagus before going to sleep early. His 4 am run was going to be hard.

                Wonshik talked about his next spar, his opponent who outranked him in just about everything except for speed. But the blonde was confident, he had a good a shot as any.

                “I leave for LA in a week, to get adjusted to the time and stuff.”

                Taekwoon had listened to every word and for the first time in a long time, Wonshik liked talking to someone who didn't know everything about him and his fighting.

                “Oh.”

                “Are you going to watch it?”

                Chuckling gently, Taekwoon gave him a surprisingly teasing look. One that was soft and attractive. “If you think I am going to America to watch you fight, you are sadly mistaken.”

                “I meant on TV. I am sure your best friend will be watching,” Wonshik said with an air of arrogance but it was in jest. Taekwoon’s smile fell. “I’m just joking, I don’t—“

                “Well I wish you the best of luck.”

                He hadn’t realized they had finished their drinks and the sun was starting to set, the cool breeze turning into a humid draft around them. Wonshik wasn’t ready to leave yet.

                “Taekwoon-hyung—“

                “Why do you call me that?” the brunette asked, looking at the table before piercing Wonshik with a hard gaze. “We’re not close.”

                That, also, was not meant to be harsh, the blonde could just tell. But it was very telling because Wonshik hadn’t even thought of it like that. It had just been so long since he had someone to talk to that perhaps, it was an unconscious action.

                But Wonshik didn’t like apologizing for things that didn’t need an apology. They were close enough to share late night texts but he couldn’t address Taekwoon as hyung?

                “Do you share coffee with lots of non-friends then?” Coffee colored hair fell forward as the brunette bowed his head. “Look at me.”

                Taekwoon lifted his eyes then, biting his bottom lip as he regarded Wonshik. “This is just…”

                He didn’t need to finish because they both knew what this was. At the same time that it was weird and slightly uncanny, it was comfortable and intriguing. There was something pulling them together, more than just interest and it wasn’t leaving either alone. It certainly hadn’t left Wonshik’s mind.

                “I know.” Looking at the skull on his hand bathed in the white light from the café's outdoor lamps, he sighed. “I get it. And I want you to know, I don’t want anything from you. I…” Looking up, he watched the shadow’s on the older man’s face, painting him haunted. “But if you ever need anything from me, you just let me know.”

               

*

 

                Taekwoon followed Wonshik with his eyes, the night now balmy and goosebumps raised along his forearms as the degrees dipped, his sleeveless shirt not enough to keep him warm now that the sun was gone. They had finished at the café and walked towards the grocery store, stopping a block away. Wonshik’s building wasn't too far away and though they had walked in silence, the brunette felt like his voice was fatigued.

                There was so much he had wanted to say.

                Watching the younger man head into his apartment, his grey sweatshirt hood pulled over his head—hat and all—Taekwoon sighed in relief. But not the normal kind, no. The kind where he didn't need to hide his body's reaction to the other man. Maybe that’s why he felt so exhausted.

                Because seeing Wonshik look at him, only him, was hard.

                Something had changed, hadn’t it?

                His phone vibrated in his pocket. He knew it was the blonde and when he read the message, he couldn’t help the flutter of excitement in his chest at the simple text.

                _Let me know when you get in so I don’t worry._

                When Taekwoon got into his apartment, he crawled into the guest bed, texting Wonshik he had made it home. The blonde replied with his address.

_Just in case._


	8. Seven

                Three days later, Taekwoon knocked on the solid door a second time. He didn't know how he had gotten there, in front of that door— just remembered it was raining and he had gone for a walk and then, suddenly, he was in front of Wonshik's apartment.

                He felt the water drip down his wrist and his fingers curled to catch it before it fell to the cement ground of the hallway. Then he heard the door open, the exhale from Wonshik as he took in the brunette's appearance.

                "What are you doing here?"

                It was curious and a tad worried. Because Taekwoon was soaked through and his hair hung wetly in front of his eyes as he finally looked at the blonde in front of him. Wonshik was shirtless, ink spread across his body delicately and his sweatpants hung low. By the outline of his cock underneath the material, it was apparent he wasn't wearing any underwear.

                Closing his eyes, Taekwoon spoke. "You said to tell you whenever I needed something."

                Wonshik stepped aside. "I meant… Did something happen?"

                It had but Taekwoon wasn't going to tell him. He just wanted in as the air conditioning in the hall was starting cause a chill to wrap around his body. His shoes squeaked as he walked through the threshold and into the nice, spacious layout. There was a large living room, a nice shiny kitchen and a small dining room, partitioned by half walls. But what the older man thought of first was the wood floors, his dripping clothes creating a trail. He looked up and caught the younger man's eyes.

                Wonshik smirked.

                "I'll get you something to wear."

                Taekwoon nodded, then thought better of it, world swirling for a moment. He was drunk.

                Pressing his palms into his eyes, he flushed red. He and Joonki had just finished arguing when Taekwoon started out the house, so angry that he had been pushed to tears by the older man. He had just headed in any direction, wandering to clear his mind, ending at a bar. Normally, the brunette drank with friends. Yet at that moment, all he wanted was to feel good—to feel different. A strong drink or two would help with that.

                So even as Joonki blew up his phone, Taekwoon drank. And drank. And drank.

                Now, inebriated, he stood in the middle of Wonshik's living room, trying his damnedest to _act_ sober.

                Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head, struggling for a second as the wet material clung to his skin. But eventually it was off and away, the room taking a second to catch up to his vision. Starting on his pants, he heard Wonshik's steps.

                "Here are some—"

                The silence that followed was heavy and with frozen fingers poised on the button of his jeans, Taekwoon suddenly felt like throwing up.

                His back was to Wonshik and he could hear the floor creak in a footstep. Then another. The brunette inhaled as he felt the energy slip closer with each pace. One more step.

                The button of his jeans popped and Taekwoon swallowed. Not because he was able to remove his pants finally, but because there was an intake of breath from the blonde at the sound of his zipper sliding down. Because as he peeled the denim from his legs slowly, leaving him in boxers, Wonshik didn't move away.

                Some sick part of him enjoyed this. It reveled in the fact that he was here, barely holding his shit together, stripping in Wonshik's living room. He hadn't intended to. He hadn't come here to see how far they'd get. But when he was drinking, he kept thinking of Wonshik's parting words. Of the sincerity in his voice. In the warmth in his eyes.

                It had created a storm above him that rained down. He was curious as to what Wonshik would do if he came over. Would he humor him?

                As he started to lower his boxers, fingers curled under the elastic waistband at his side, hands covered his, stopping him before he got far. It was expected for a moment before it happened. Taekwoon had felt the warmth blanket over him as the other took the final steps to him. Now he was right behind him.

                The brunette felt the emotion brewing, felt the heat starting to trickle in a drip to pool in his belly. Goosebumps racing across his damp skin, he registered the feel of Wonshik's dry palm against the back of his hand.

                Would Wonshik entertain his feelings of resentment and abandonment? Would he give in to the lust that masked the lonliness and touch him the way Taekwoon wanted to be touched?

                That palm, hot now, traveled up the brunette's arm to his shoulder. It curled, fingers slipping into wet strands of hair, clumped and thin, fisting.

                Taekwoon sighed swiftly as Wonshik brought him back towards him with a tug. Or maybe it was a pull. The older man's feet took a step backwards and his shoulders suddenly burned against Wonshik's chest and his ass pressed into the blonde's sweatpant clad groin.

                Would he forget that Taekwoon had a boyfriend who acted like a child? Would Wonshik treat him like a lover?

                Hot breath ghosted over his neck as that hand in his hair loosened and traveled lower.

                "God Taekwoon…”

                Body reacting, Taekwoon opened his mouth to breathe, the aftertaste of rum adding to his regret.

                "I want to touch you so bad."

                Swallowing, the brunette felt Wonshik's nose run over the bump of his spine at the nape of his neck. Fingers were light as they ran down the length of his vertebrae, almost non-existent and it caused his dick to jump in his boxers, the cold material aiding the chill Wonshik created.

                "And I want to kiss this."

                Whimpering slightly, Taekwoon shuddered slightly at the feel of Wonshik's fingers as they traced the long tattoo that trailed down the brunette's spine, stopping just before his tailbone. No one other than Joonki had ever seen it.

                "And then I want to taste you here."

                That hand had slipped beneath Taekwoon's boxers, in between the crack of his ass and with flat fingers, he touched him gently. But only once, only one smooth of his hand and it caused the brunette's belly to fire, eyes shutting as his entrance clenched in response.

                "But I can't… now can I?"

                The touch was gone and it made Taekwoon want to cry out, his aching cock pulling the fabric of his boxers up as it stood. Wonshik hadn't moved, but in the absence of his touch, it felt like he had.

                With a hazy mind, the brunette imagined Wonshik's hands on him, his mouth on him as his tongue slid down the tattooed letters that lined the middle of his back. He imagined that tongue touching him in a place that had never been caressed in such a way.

                "But I want you to," he choked out, vision swimming as he finally opened his eyes, digging his hand into his boxers. He couldn't help it as his thoughts continued to replay Wonshik's words, his fingers curling around his cock, pulling in strokes that he knew were too slow but the agony was delicious. And to know Wonshik was right behind him, pressed against him…

                It was the closest they'd get. Because they couldn't touch each other the way they wanted.

                And when Taekwoon would sober up and need to justify this to himself, the thought of Wonshik on his knees behind him, making him come from his tongue alone would be just that: a thought. And that wasn't cheating.

                "Taekwoon," Wonshik said, loud and disruptive.

                Blinking, the brunette suddenly returned to his reality. He was shirtless, but his hands were still on the button of his damp jeans, Wonshik across the room. Turning, he saw the blonde with clothes in his hand, eyes finding his.

                There were no words but Taekwoon was sure he had turned lobster red, swallowing against the lump in his throat. It hadn’t been real. The thought of Wonshik touching him was just that: a thought.

                “You can change in the bathroom,” the younger man spoke, voice strained and suddenly, Taekwoon remembered about his tattoo. That was true now.

                “Sorry,” he mumbled, reaching down to get his shirt, holding it in front of him as she started toward the blonde. Wonshik held out the articles of clothing as he got close, then his eyes dropped to the front of his pants. Flushing, Taekwoon let his shirt fall a little lower to hide his obvious erection. When Wonshik’s eyes found his again, he wore a smirk.

                “Shut up,” he groaned, grabbing the dry change of clothes.

 

*

 

                Emerging from the bathroom, Taekwoon reveled in the feel of the warm hoodie and the soft pants. They were cotton and light but comfortable enough. Plus, it was hot in Wonshik’s apartment.

                “Have you been drinking?”

                Now it was even hotter, so the brunette guessed maybe it wasn’t the temperature that had his skin flushing red.

                “It’s ok if you were.” Looking at the clock, Wonshik raised from the love seat. It was a comfortable little area that felt quite homey despite its space. He and Joonki’s was just cramped.

                Clearing his voice, Taekwoon took a seat as well, bringing his feet underneath him then determinedly, put both feet on the floor. He wasn’t that comfortable. Plus, the room had started to tilt.

                “Let me get you some water,” Wonshik said, going to the kitchen, passing Taekwoon with an outstretched hand though he didn't touch him. The brunette grabbed it—oddly brazen. Dark eyes fund his.

                "Do you have any bread?"

                He felt his stomach roil at the look Wonshik threw him, calloused fingertips curling against his palm. They felt cold but good at the same time. The older man didn’t want to let go.

                He did as the blonde sauntered into the kitchen, his bare back flexing in the lights of the apartment. It was well lit and there were fluorescent rays bouncing off of the other. Taekwoon didn't even pretend not to watch his bare chest, his tattoos. The ones that slithered across his skin and painted him wild. His blonde hair was even more electrifying when he had his shirt off, caramel skin marred with black.

                "Drink," Wonshik directed as he handed Taekwoon the glass of water, putting a plate in front of him. Two pieces of bread sat atop it.

                "Thank you," the brunette murmured, taking a large gulp out of necessity rather than thirst. He knew he needed something to get the bread down.

                "So." Wonshik sat on the other side of the loveseat, spreading his legs and putting his elbows on them easily. He caught Taekwoon mid gulp. "Are you going to tell me why you needed to come out here?"

                It was oddly phrased and the older man didn't quite like it. He didn't _need_ to do anything.

                "I…"

                Swallowing, Taekwoon tried to think of the answer. The right answer.

                "I wanted…"

                Mouth crooking, Wonshik shook his head.

                "If it's going to take all day, forget I asked—"

                "I wanted to see you."

                Eyes blinked, slanting a little as they comprehended the words. Then the blonde shifted, running a hand through his hair, gaze no longer on him. Taekwoon stole the opportunity.

                "I wanted you to kiss me."

                 Again, Wonshik's eyes found his, widening uncharacteristically. He hadn't seemed like a man to be easily surprised. But he was looking at Taekwoon like he had just solved something big. There was even a bit of admiration there.

                Then he turned towards the brunette and moved closer. Taekwoon gasped slightly.

                "But you can't," he said hurriedly, the words stalling Wonshik instantly. Except now, he didn't melt into an easy smirk. Instead his brow furrowed and he returned to facing forward, running another hand into his hair. He pulled a little this time and the older man sighed.

                "I'm sorry."

                "What are you doing here, Taekwoon?"

                The brunette caught the hyung missing at the edge of his name, knowing it was in a reply but it was best for them. It was the best for all of them if there stayed a distance between them. Because Taekwoon would just want Wonshik more if he kissed him tonight.

                He knew from experience.

                "I cheated before."

                This time, Wonshik didn't move. Just continued to stare ahead, shoulders bunched slightly. Taekwoon continued.

                "A couple years ago, I cheated on my boyfriend and it nearly killed us both. I can't… I don't want to do that to him again," he said, looking down at his fingers, reaching to pick at a hangnail. Saying it out loud brought the shame from before, the memories buried but not deep enough.

                "Why are you still with him then?"

                Eyes raised. "What do you mean?"

                "Well, I mean, if this isn't something new, doesn't that say something?"

                Taekwoon was ready to refute it when he stopped, thinking of the why. He knew the why. He hated the why at the same time he loved the why.

                Joonki was the love of his life. 16 year old Taekwoon had followed him around school with puppy dog eyes, waiting for the day his best friend looked at him the same way. It was unrequited and the young boy would pine for the next six years until one night, Joonki had touched his lips. Taekwoon had kissed him in the next breath.

                They had been each other's firsts in everything: sex, love, hate. And a year after they had made it official, moving in and moving away being the worst idea either of them had, Taekwoon had found someone who wasn't as hard. Who wasn't so much work. Who showered him with compliments while Joonki barely looked his way.

                And one night, he had let that man touch him, fuck him.

                Then Taekwoon had gone home to his boyfriend and kissed him with the same mouth that had been on another.

                The deceit spread quickly and he ended up confessing right then and there. It broke Joonki, the boy he had been in love with for so long. It reduced the older man to his knees as he begged Taekwoon to stay, to never wander again. He had promised he would do better—

                _"I promise, I will make this right. Please, just don't leave me." Silence. "You're all I know."_

                Joonki wasn't gay, he explained. But he was in love with Taekwoon so completely that it didn't matter. It was his fault the younger man had wandered and he was hell bent on fixing it. Because who was he without him?

                Taekwoon had promised him that night, both on their knees, two 23 year olds who didn't know they had more potential apart. Taekwoon had promised him that _he_ would make this right. That he'd never do this again—Joonki was all he needed. Who was he without him?

                "It says that I need to work on my self-control—"

                There were lips near his, a soft pair that weren't asking for anything but a moment of quiet. Taekwoon immediately yanked away, pushing a hand into Wonshik's chest that had since come close. Eyes wide watched the blonde, body vibrating like he had been touched, like he had been kissed. He hadn't, instead Wonshik had just made a point by acting as if he would, as if he could.

                "Your self-control has nothing to do with the fact that you're tipsy, at my house at midnight, telling me you want to be kissed."

                Wonshik leaned back fully, his signature smirk in place. The other couldn't figure out what he had to smile about.

                "It has _everything_ to do with it."

                Standing, Wonshik started towards his bedroom. "No, it doesn't. You two failed a long time ago and you won't recognize you should have just taken the loss."

                He disappeared into a room only to reappear with a pillow and a throw blanket. Walking over to the love seat that would be uncomfortable but sufficient, Wonshik narrowed his eyes. "Life is trying to give you a second chance."

                Taekwoon watched as he dropped the sleeping linens to the small sofa and then curled in a little.

                "That's horrible advice," the brunette murmured.

                Wonshik laughed sardonically. "That's what friends are for." 


	9. Eight

                There was noise, not much but enough to make him stir. His eyes were slightly crusted and the taste at the back of his mouth was alarming. Had he thrown up his sleep?

                Taekwoon's head didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would, but the flipping of his stomach made up for it. Plus, he thought, his body was cramped on the short sofa, his limbs creaking as he spread out.

                A dish hit the stainless steel of the sink hard and Taekwoon's eyes narrowed. That one seemed a little intentional.

                Reaching for his water on the coffee table, the brunette gulped down the tepid liquid, mouth sighing as it quenched his thirst. He looked over when the blender started.

                Wonshik had a grey sweatshirt over black sweatpants, both baggy and shielding the lean physique beneath. His hair was hidden by a snapback, this one turquoise and it looked amazing and brilliant. This was Taekwoon's favorite.

                The appliance stopped and suddenly, Wonshik looked back. His face was a little pale as if he hadn't slept enough. He hadn't—Taekwoon didn't finally pass out until closer to 1. And he had heard Wonshik get up a couple hours later to leave. Then he had returned and now he was leaving again, watching Taekwoon still splayed out on the love seat.

                "I'm heading out."

                There wasn't anything commanding about it but it gave Taekwoon the opportunity to stay or leave. The older man didn't move.

                "Where are you going?"

                His voice was scratchy and while Wonshik didn't look all that interested, he also didn't seem off put that Taekwoon was asking. He just looked tired.

                "To train."

                The brunette shook his head. "No," he clarified, pointing to the suitcases by the door. Wonshik looked over, shouldering his duffel bag.

                "I told you, I'm headed to America." Then the corner of the blonde's mouth curved. "You watching?"

                Taekwoon closed his eyes with a gentle smile of his own, mildly amused. "I told you," he mocked in a deeper voice. "No."

                Chuckling, Wonshik started towards the door again. Before he opened it, he motioned towards the bathroom. "There's pain medicine in there. If you take any of my good shit, I'll find you," he promised with a teasing leer.

                "When are you coming back?"

                Again, Taekwoon hadn't meant to speak those words. They were strangers, why was he even worried about when Wonshik would be returning? Shouldn't he be more concerned with getting home to Joonki?

                _Life is giving you a second chance._

                "Are you going to be here when I get back?" Then, "You shouldn't be. I'm gone all day. Then I got to get on a plane tonight. So I would say stay as long as you want, the door locks automatically behind you. Just…" The blonde ended with a large yawn.

                Taekwoon laughed. Sleepy Wonshik was cute. So different from sexy Wonshik or fighter Wonshik. He liked sleepy Wonshik.

                "I'll leave in a couple. I don't want to hold you up. Um," Taekwoon said, clearing his throat, feeling the pound of his head increase. "Thank you."

                Wonshik's hand twisted on the door knob, his shallow nod all the response he'd give. He was too far away to decipher and the brunette was way too weak to try so he accepted it. Allowed the other to go out the apartment, the lock sounding out behind the blonde. Taekwoon watched it and then looked at the luggage.

                Getting up, he wobbled as he made his way into the bathroom. It was orderly but not too much so. There were a lot of things but they were all clustered into neat stacks or groupings. He was messy in an organized manner. Taekwoon snickered shortly.

                After splashing water on his haggard face and avoiding his reflection in the mirror, the brunette started towards the kitchen. It was a nice space, so much larger than he and Joonki's and when he opened up cabinets, he saw some of the same items. Training was worthless unless you conditioned your body, his boyfriend had always said.

                Eyes glanced at the luggage. Then something else caught the corner of his gaze: a schedule. It was handwritten with times and tasks.

                "Four am run? Sheesh," he murmured, continuing reading. It was a daily calendar, he realized because it had Wonshik's training until seven pm and then dinner. Then his 11 pm flight to Los Angeles. Touching it, he imagined Wonshik writing it, maybe at a desk around there somewhere.

                Feeling the room fall out of focus as he concentrated on the words, Taekwoon thought sitting would be preferable. Curling into the comfortable sofa, he brought the blanket up to his body, finally closing his eyes. It felt amazing to rest.

                After, he'd be up and out, he told himself. He'd talk to Joonki once he got home.

                Then he wanted to play, his fingers itching to touch keys inexplicably. Taekwoon fell asleep to a melody he was ready to put on paper.

 

*

 

                "Dammit, Wonshik. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

                Closing his eyes, the young man dropped his hands. There was no hesitance in the move because he was so exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally. Jae watched him with no sense of sympathy. He raised the pads and nodded.

                "Again."

                "I—"

                "I said again," the elder growled and despite feeling as if he had no essence to hit one more time, he did. And again. And one more time.

                "Yes." Wonshik repeated the move. "Yes!" Jae barked, the blonde rumbling as he put as much power as he could into a surprise left kick. Jae reached up, barely able to block the attack and found himself stumbling from it. He smiled at Wonshik though the younger man couldn't enjoy it. He needed to sit down. Or throw up.

                He put his hands on his hips and walked towards the ring next to them, leaning on his forearms against it once he made it. He took short deep breaths. It was only mid-afternoon and he should have more endurance than this.

                Suddenly tears welled and it wasn't because he was emotional. No, it was his body's natural reaction to being as physically pressed as he was, just as his stomach was clenching uncontrollably. He had over done it and he sank to his knees.

                That last kick was too much.

                "What's going on?"

                Wonshik shook his head. "It’s the… extra weight."

                He had put on four pounds to get closer to Guillaume's weight but that extra four pounds was throwing everything off. Miniscule as it sounded, his body was in tune for a certain weight—his weight. And trying to put on—and maintain—the extra pounds had his body confused.

                He would burn it trying to amp up his endurance but then he'd have to build it right back up and it just didn't feel right. He had done a pound or two. Never four.

                "I don't believe that," Jae said, standing beside him. The trainer himself had dark circles beneath his eyes. For as long as Wonshik was training, so was Jae.

                "I don't care… what you… believe."

                But there was no attitude behind those words. He had no energy to put it there.

                "Don't let this guy get into your head. You have a real shot at winning, ok?" Jae finally brought him to sit, crouching in front of him. "He's bigger in every way. But that just means we need to be quicker. It takes longer for his strikes to reach you and longer for them to come back. Every time he lifts a leg, it's going to take him longer. So you need to be ready to be quick, ok?"

                Wonshik nodded, a drop of sweat pooling on the tip of his nose.

                "I know we've been over this, but you need to remember to get him into a corner. And you need to get to his head. He won't let you keep him down long enough to get a sub. You need to disorient him first, then you go for the ears. Then, once he's down—"

                "I go for… the eyes… I know," Wonshik answered like a star pupil.

                "Yes. That is how you'll win." Jae leaned forward and grabbed Wonshik's cheeks, staring into him. "And how will he win?"

                "By getting… me on my back… By tiring… me out."

                "And?"

                "His left kick," Wonshik breathed.

                Jae stood. The blonde slumped over, holding his head.

                He didn't want to think of the fight he was to partake in in the next couple of days. He was flying out to Los Angeles that night since he needed a couple of days to get used to the time difference. But all he wanted to do was sleep. He was so incredibly tired.

                That frightened him because normally, days before his fights, he was in prime physical condition. Now, he was sluggish and dehydrated and just plain old worn-out.

                Wonshik knew why. He'd be stupid not to—the late night texts, the surprise visit that seriously threw him off. He had gotten three hours of sleep the night before and it had made his morning run brutal. It had also made training horrible and Jae was none too pleased. This fight meant too much to them.

                Feeling the burden settle on his shoulders he let his trainer unwrap his hands. Jae didn't say anything as they left—he was disappointed.

                Dragging his feet the seven blocks home, he made it to his apartment and stopped right outside his door. Was Taekwoon still there?

                He hoped not because Wonshik needed to refocus. There was something more important than the man with the tempting feline eyes and long body. The one who came drunk to his house in the middle of the night, wanting Wonshik.

                The man who had spilled his guts. The one who seemed trapped but wasn't doing anything for himself. The moment Wonshik started to feel bad, he unlocked his door. He had no room for other people's emotions—he just needed to fight.

                The lights were off and the blanket and the pillow were stacked on the edge of the love seat, neatly folded. There was no Taekwoon to be seen or heard. Peeking around the corner of his bedroom and the bathroom, Wonshik was alone. Dropping his duffel bag, he started towards the kitchen. His stomach was screaming but he needed to get something in it.

                Scratching at the nape of his neck, he paused. Eyes registered the note first. It was laying on the counter next to the sink, his normal daily schedule on the other side, a little scribble on the blank side.

                Snatching it, he read it twice, smiling despite his fatigue.

 

                _Wonshik,_

_You probably don't need it but if you win, I'll cook you dinner. I'm not bad._

_Good luck._

_-Taekwoon_

 

                _Ps. There's chicken in the fridge as a thank you._

                Chuckling with a shake of his head, he put the note back on the stainless steel counter. He then opened the refrigerator. Sure enough, there was a Tupperware full of chicken, even some vegetables. Brow furrowing, he wondered why.

                As a thank you.

                Wonshik was more than appreciative since he didn't have the energy to cook tonight and throwing the food in the microwave, he scooped up his phone, thumbs typing.

                There was an immediate reply, the blonde laughing.

                _Well if you lose, you have to cook me dinner._

                Licking his lips, Wonshik heard the beep of the microwave but instead of moving, he leaned his hips into the counter. He typed quickly: 'Thank you for dinner.'

                _You're welcome._

                Wonshik went on to eat, shower and get to the airport. Still, the brunette's face that morning wouldn't leave his mind, the small smile he had given absolutely enchanting.

 

*

                "Hakyeon-hyung, are you still coming?"

                Brown eyes hopped up from a shelf, not too far from the two older men. Sanghyuk raised his eyebrows as he listened in. He was stocking soup cans but his friend's conversations were a lot more interesting than the nutritional information of beef stock.

                "Going where?"

                Hakyeon looked over. "You sure are nosey," he said affectionately and the younger man blushed. Taekwoon smiled.

                "We're getting a fight at my house. Joonki's going to have his friends over so I decided why not, might as well level the playing field."

                "When you put it that way, I no longer want to come," Hakyeon mused, leaning over the counter to look at Sanghyuk who was now standing at the edge of an aisle. "We're being used as collateral damage, huh?"

                Sanghyuk laughed and started towards them. "I don't mind—are you cooking, Taekwoon-hyung?" At the small nod, the youngest beamed. "Count me in!"

                Hakyeon sighed dramatically, knowing he had no reason not to go but wanting to hold out a little longer. He was a pest that way.

                "So who is fighting?" When both looked his way, saying silently that Hakeyon wouldn't know them even if they told him, he held up his phone. "Google."

                Laughing, Taekwoon told him the Canadian fighter's name. Then when the oldest man searched, his eyebrows shot up and he looked back to the brunette. There was a moment and Sanghyuk moved closer. Then, it was gone and Hakyeon smiled at the young store clerk.

                "So this should be fun!"

 

*

 

                Taekwoon watched the two storekeepers as they talked, though he couldn't help but think of the next day when he'd be watching Wonshik fight again. Skin bristling at the now distant memory, he felt his mouth curving. It had been a couple days since the fighter had left for America and they hadn't spoken since. Taekwoon wanted to—wanted to wish him luck.

                Because he had done his research and learned this St. Francois guy was good—really good. And he was bigger than Wonshik in stature, wingspan and weight. He also had more wins with an almost non-existent record of fouls. Even if they were tied, the match would go to St. Francois solely based on Wonshik couldn't seem to go one round without a foul. He had a nasty habit of hitting one too many times. It was like once he started, he had to finish.

                The brunette had read an article that said if there was one person that could hold off Wonshik's elbows and never find themselves within the blonde's submission holds, it would be Guillaume St. Francois. His defensive prowess would win this bout and it was set to be an exciting match. Plus, if Wonshik won, he would be eligible to go for a title.

                Not that Taekwoon had looked into Wonshik's fighting career or anything.

                Feeling the corner of his mouth lift, Taekwoon looked down. Not quick enough though because Hakyeon caught his chin and forced him to look up. His eyes weren't friendly and shame immediately blanketed the younger man. He pulled away and heard his friend tell Sanghyuk to finish stacking, he wasn’t paying him to stand around. Of course, he said it with a smile and the young boy, who was too tall for his own good, rolled his eyes and started back to work. Then Hakyeon pointed at Taekwoon and pointed next to him. The shop was too small and the oldest man was a horrible whisperer.

                "What is going on between you two?"

                No names necessary and Taekwoon wasn't stupid enough to play dumb. Hakyeon was his closet friend and, besides Joonki, his oldest friend. They were close but if the brunette was honest, they'd probably be closer if Joonki didn't demand as much time as he did.

                "Nothing."

                "Nothing?" Hakyeon asked incredulously.

                "Nothing," Taekwoon repeated, going to move away but his friend grabbed his arm.

                "Don't lie to me, Taekwoon. Don't answer if you want, but just don't lie."

                The brunette winced. Hakyeon had been there for him when he and Joonki had hit that rough patch. If anything, he and the black haired man had become closer because of it. Taekwoon was able to vent and Hakyeon was there, day or night. He had been very diplomatic as well, which was impressive since over the past four years, Hakyeon had shown he could be very opinionated.

                Now, he thought something was going on between he and Wonshik.

                "First you travel to Tokyo to see this guy. Now you're ordering his fight—Taekwoonie, you _never_ watch these things on TV. What is going on?"

                Stretching his neck, he looked over at the aisle Sanghyuk had disappeared. He smiled. "We're just friends."

 

*

 

                The air was so heavy and it wasn't supposed to be this tense. It was supposed to be exciting and fun and a night that they both enjoyed each other with their friends. Joonki had his friends that knew about Taekwoon so when they had settled in, getting ready for the main fight between Guillaume St. Francois and Wonshik Kim in Los Angeles, they had sat close, the older man's arms around the brunette's shoulder.

                But minutes later, the couple was in the kitchen, Joonki grabbing Taekwoon's wrists, the other ripping them away.

                "Stop fucking acting like this," Joonki growled, looking back to his friends. No one dared to look at them.

                "What am I doing?" Taekwoon countered, pushing away when his boyfriend came closer. "Don't touch me," he gritted out, also looking at his friends. All of them were on the couch and the floor in front of the television. But you could feel the discomfort emanating from them and Taekwoon sighed. "I don't want to argue tonight—"

                "Easy for you to say, Taek. You don't have a chance at winning."

                "Is that you what you want? To win? Then you win," the younger man conceded easily, raising his hands. "I'm not spending all this energy. This is stupid, Joonki."

                "You're the one who's wrong. Don't twist this around and act like I'm some crazy boyfriend, ok? You disappeared and you didn't tell me where you were or if you were safe and I had to wait until the next day to see your ass stroll through those doors. I didn't go work out because I was waiting for you and—"

                "And I said I was sorry! I get it, Joon. I get it. But how many times do I need to apologize? I feel like that’s all I've been doing the past couple of days. And I'm done, ok? I'm done apologizing because if you don't believe me by now, then—"

                "Guys?"

                Both looked over and there was a joint breath they took. Hakyeon pointed to the television.

                "It's about to start."

                The distraction was deliberate and Taekwoon bit the inside of his cheek, not bothering to look over at his boyfriend as they made their way to the couch. The brunette sat on the ground next to Sanghyuk while Joonki took up residence in their previous spot.

                Taekwoon knew Joonki was upset—he had been since he had come back from Wonshik's. Rightfully so because if the roles were reversed and Joonki hadn’t come home, hadn't texted or called until the next day, he would have been thoroughly pissed.

                But the brunette was struggling with caring. Because Wonshik had been right, hadn't he? What was he doing? Why was he wasting his time trying to fix something that had already been _fixed_ once?

                With tears suddenly pushing forth, Taekwoon's throat worked against the emotion that had been kept at bay since he had returned and saw the worry on Joonki's face.

                Then Wonshik appeared on the screen, body flexing as he rolled his shoulders, making his way down the walkway to the octagon. He didn't look into the camera and Taekwoon was grateful; he probably would have started crying then.


	10. Nine

               This was the moment.

                Wonshik's body vibrated, heels digging into the mat of the octagon. The lights were bright and hot above him, shrouding his shoulders in white. Perspiration was shining along his limbs, his pre-fight cardio loosening his muscles. He shook his arms for good measure.

                Guillaume St. Francois stood across from him, staring back. The larger man mimicked his movement, throwing his limbs side to side before he squatted. Wonshik could feel the heat coming off in waves, swallowing against the pressure.

                There weren't nerves but there was the possibility of losing—that frightened him more.

                "You ready?" the referee asked and Wonshik blinked with a small nod, steeling his jaw as he bared down on his mouth guard. The official turned towards Guillaume. "You ready?"

                The lights fell in Wonshik's mind and he found his opponent, found his face and suddenly the blinders snapped on. He found the spot he wanted to hit first—the jaw.

 

*

 

                Taekwoon was sitting up on the floor, his back as straight as an arrow. He couldn't help it—for some reason, it felt like he couldn't watch the match any other way. Because in the first couple of second, he was watching Wonshik dodge and absorb blow after blow and the moment the blonde was grabbed and slammed down, the crowd in the small apartment roaring, he had sat up, eyes wide.

                Then Hakyeon put an inconspicuous hand to his shoulder and it was enough of a sign that Taekwoon let his shoulders fall.

                Putting a hand to his mouth, he ravaged his thumb nail as he saw Wonshik wiggle out of a hold, trying to grapple his way on top. He remembered how he had been on Joonki and he hoped he could get there fast.

                But it never came to fruition as the man below him never allowed it and the two spent the rest of the first round trying to dominate each other. It made the hair on the brunette's arms flex and slowly, Taekwoon had to push down the nausea. He didn't want to watch this anymore as the first bell rang.

                During the quick rest, Taekwoon scooted to lean his back against the couch, shoulder touching Joonki's leg. His boyfriend reached out and ran a hand through the back of his hair. The brunette did not react.

                "If Kim wants to win, he needs to get that guy with his strikes. There's no way he's going to get someone like that on the ground," Joonki was saying to his friend and then Sanghyuk, who just wanted to fill the stuffy silence, asked why. "Because he's too much muscle for all that—look at St Francois. You see how cut he is? That’s all rock. And he's got hips that piston so…"

                He quieted as the fighters started again and all eyes were back on the octagon. Guillaume St. Francois had a busted lip but it wouldn't be long before Wonshik's blood would spill, the younger man receiving a hard kick to the ribs that was followed by a left hook. The blonde stumbled as his eyebrow split, a line of red dribbling over and down into his right eye. He shook it away but continued to fight with a squint.

                "Shit."

                Taekwoon looked up to Joonki. "What?"

                "That's not good. They call fights for stuff like that. He better act like he can see," he mumbled, eyes following Wonshik, Taekwoon doing the same. The tiny cut had colored half of his face red as it continued to leak and spread with each head shot he received until the young fighter finally landed a strong upper cut.

                Everyone hollered as St. Francois fell to his knees slightly and Wonshik went wild with his swings, six in all as he fired them off in the span of three seconds, ending with a nasty elbow to the side of his opponent's face.

                Then the room gasped as the Canadian grabbed the back of Wonshik's thighs and brought him to his back. Taekwoon raised to his knees as he heard the crack of the man's head hit the mat. Even Joonki winced, Hakyeon hiding his eyes partially as they watched St. Francois crawl over the Korean and start wailing on him in the split second of pause from Wonshik.

                His face became bloodier with each view between punches as he tried to protect his head. But as his body moved to get from beneath the other, there were more hits landed until Wonshik brought a knee high enough to get the other in the kidneys. Guillaume fell back slightly, just enough for Wonshik to grab his arm and twist it around in an unnatural position, the pair sliding along the mat as the blonde pulled the beefy limb between his legs. He looked around, maybe for the time, dark eyes peering from a battered face, panting open mouthed as he pulled higher.

                Taekwoon was standing now, listening as the crowd in the arena went wild. The announcers were saying that Wonshik might have it with the arm bar. That the fighter from Korea could have his—

                Suddenly, they flipped and the brunette saw the look in Wonshik's eyes. St. Francois had gotten out and stumbled to the other side. He leaned against the cage for a second but Wonshik didn't chase after him, returning to his feet and raising his fists. Both of their gloves were bloody, their faces matching as the pair waited out the remaining moments left to the second round.

                People in the stadium were all standing, shouting and the announcers were excited themselves. They hadn't expected such a long bout since there had been so many opportunities to end it.

                Taekwoon sat on the edge of the couch, leg bouncing slightly. Hakyeon had gone to the kitchen, fixing himself a drink and leaning against the sink. It was stressing them all out and when the referee asked if both fighters were once again ready, the brunette found his hands coming to his hair as he watched.

                The fighters were exhausted, their punches soft if they landed, soft if they didn’t. Wonshik ended up grabbing St. Francois around his ribs and rested his chin against the other man's shoulder. He then tried to trip him, the other focusing body shots as he tried to get away. He finally broke free and raised his hands.

                Blood had been cleaned from Wonshik's face but Taekwoon could see the large slice in his eyebrow and how his left eye was swollen. His hands shielded his face as Guillaume advanced, this time the larger man hunching down and tackling the young man to the ground.

                Closing his eyes, the brunette didn't want to watch anymore. There were coils of uneasiness that were winding around his insides, twisting his stomach as he suddenly heard the crowd spike, Joonki jumping up.

                "Oh _shit!_ "

                Eyes popping open, Taekwoon looked at the television where the official had separated the two. "What happened?!"

                Joonki had a wild smile on his face. "St. Francois just kicked Kim in the head." Looking at his boyfriend, he elaborated. "You can't kick someone in the head while they're down."

                "Does that mean he's disqua—" Taekwoon didn't get to finish as Wonshik came back to fighting, telling the others he was fine. He was rewarded with applause but the brunette had a sinking feeling, those coils filling with lead and dropping into the pit of his stomach.

                "Shit, he ain't trying to give up," one of Joonki's friends said and Taekwoon looked over for a second. Then back to the screen.

                He wished he hadn't.

                There was another frenzy as St. Francois had gotten a second wind and suddenly struck Wonshik with one powerful jaw shot that landed, the other immediately faltering before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. Joonki hollered, his friends all jeered and he heard Hakyeon moan.

                But Taekwoon could only watch as the blonde's blood covered face stared up, blinking as the medics crowded around him, flashing lights and wiping at his face.

                Taekwoon felt his chest tighten, an invisible vice cranking as he felt the uneasiness spread. Wonshik wasn't getting up.

                St. Francois had since stopped jumping around the octagon and was now at the periphery, his team all coming to watch. The vibe had died a bit as the camera then zoomed in on Wonshik who was moving his mouth, looking at one particular person, though they couldn't make out his words.

                He finally nodded and the camera left, showing Guillaume as he stood in the middle of the ring. The announcers were now in the cage and when the camera showed Wonshik again, he was standing unsteadily, walking with the aid of his trainer over to the middle to join his opponent. Taekwoon couldn't feel relieved.

                Not when he noticed the tears in the young man's eyes, a streak having already made its way through the blood on his cheek. He bit his lip as they announced the winner by TKO, Guillaume St. Francois. Wonshik didn't look surprised but then again, he barely looked there. Still, there was a piece of him that twinkled in his eyes, the heartbroken piece that killed Taekwoon.

 

*

 

                "He got his ass rocked."

                That was the fourth time Joonki had said that and it was gnawing on Taekwoon's nerves. But he couldn't let it show. Wonshik wasn't supposed to mean anything to him.

                 Wonshik didn't mean anything to him.

                 "He had stars in his eyes with that last one. But he was stupid enough to drop his hands—that's elementary school stuff."

                 Rolling his eyes, Taekwoon lifted from the couch and went over to Sanghyuk and Hakyeon in the kitchen. They were sharing a glass of wine and talking about something other than what they had just witnessed. Hakyeon opened his arms when he saw the young man's approach.

                 "He's fine," his friend murmured but didn't remove his arms when Taekwoon tried to pull away. So he relaxed because it was true, he was worried.

                 "Is he a friend of yours?" Sanghyuk asked, genuinely curious.

                 "Who?" Joonki came in to the kitchen and then threw Taekwoon a look. "Why are you moping?"

                 "You know, it takes a toll on a person to see someone get the shit beat out of them. I think I've reached my quota," Hakyeon said, releasing Taekwoon who settled on the other side, avoiding his boyfriend's look.

                "Someone should have taught him how to fight—"

                "Oh my god. Get off it, Joonki. You know he's a good fighter," Taekwoon exasperated, still a little raw. It was one thing to see Wonshik win. It was another to see him get hit, the mat peppered with his blood.

                It was something completely different to watch him stare up at the ceiling like he was somewhere else.

                And his boyfriend was just making things worse.

                Joonki had been grating on his nerves ever since the match had ended and while he gave Wonshik some credit, it was mainly boasting on his part. On and on, his boyfriend spoke as if he was an MMA god. As if he had all these wins under his belt. As if he hadn't fallen to better opponents.

                As if he was Wonshik.

                But he wasn't and Taekwoon was starting to lose his patience. Not too long ago, Joonki had been the one on the ground, staring up in a stupor. And Wonshik had been the one to put him there.

                "Taek, you don't know the technical side of it."

                The brunette rolled his eyes and Sanghyuk looked away as Hakyeon pursed his lips. Readying themselves for a fight.

                Taekwoon didn't have the energy and he moved to ignore Joonki all together. But the other put his hand on his bicep, the brunette whipping his eyes towards it and he gave the older man a death glare.

                "What do you even have to be mad about?" Joonki said in reply to the look. "You're the one who—"

                "I think we should go," Hankyeon interrupted, knowing where this was going and Sanghyuk caught on quickly, starting out of the kitchen when Taekwoon stopped them.

                "No, you're my guests. You can stay if you want."

                Taekwoon didn't like to be indignant or spiteful often but Joonki was pushing all of his buttons tonight.

                "If they want to leave, they can leave," his boyfriend challenged as he turned to Hakyeon. Both looked at each other than back at Taekwoon. "We need to talk anyways."

                The brunette shook his head. "No, we don't."

                "Yes, the fuck we do! I am tired of this, Taek—"

                Eyes raged. "You know what I'm tired of, Joonki? That fucking name and the way you say it. Now, leave me alone." But Joonki was stubborn. And even when Taekwoon would warn him that he was at the end of his rope, the older man would just continue to push and push and push.

                "I'm _not_ going to leave you alone because you don't get to just disappear and then show up the next day. Especially after all we've been through!"

                Suddenly, there was light in Taekwoon's chest that fought to be released and he felt his lips tremble with tears.

                "You want to know where I was?"

                "Oh no," Hakyeon mumbled, eyes widening.

                Joonki stayed still but it was already too late. He had pushed too far.

                "Did you—"

                "No."

                There was relief that he had been honest but it was short lived because there was red rage in Joonki's face, a swirling of emotions painting him angry and Taekwoon gulped.

                 "But you wanted to."

                 The brunette stayed silent and it was more damaging than any words spoken. In the next moment, they heard the glass shattering, shards falling to the counter and then the floor. Eyes closed as Hakyeon and Sanghyuk both jumped back, Taekwoon huddling away from the crash, his face immediately finding Joonki's.

                The older man was snarling.

                "The fuck is wrong with you?" Taekwoon whispered, looking at his boyfriend. The remnants of the glass blender jar scattered along the kitchen floor. The older man had thrown it against the back of the stove top, clear bits and pieces littering the entire surface. "What is wrong with you, Joonki?"

                "You're doing this to me again."

                "I told you I didn't—"

                "But you will."

                Something broke and Taekwoon felt his mouth curve down as the tears started forward. This was so reminiscent of all of their other arguments and he hated that Joonki could make him cry so easily.

                "I'm not doing this—"

                "Then get out!"

                Eyes widening, Taekwoon's brow furrowed. He hadn't done anything wrong—why was he getting kicked out of his own home?

                But before he could dispute it, Joonki repeated it in a yell, this time inciting the assistance from his own friend to calm him down as well as Hakyeon who brought his hands to Taekwoon's shoulders, leading him out of the kitchen.

                "Hakyeon, I—"

                "It's not worth it," the elder said gently, squeezing him as they moved to the bedroom. Even then, he looked to his friend.

                "I didn't do anything tonight! Why am I the one who has to leave?"

                Sanghyuk came in then, momentarily creating a small distraction as Hakyeon started opening drawers. He pointed to Taekwoon to find a bag.

                "But why—"

                "Be honest with yourself. After that, did you really think you two could sleep under the same roof?"

                What _that_ actually _was_ was the mystery. It could have been Taekwoon's revelation. It could have been Wonshik's fight. It could have been the argument the couple had been having all day—the wall Taekwoon was too tired to traverse, the wall Joonki was too egotistical to even acknowledge.

                If he was honest with himself, there was no way he was going to lie in bed with Joonki that night. But he hadn't been the one to break the stupid blender jar. He wasn't the one who had been acting like a little shit all day.

                He hadn't kissed Wonshik—so why was he the one leaving?

                Taekwoon sank into the bed, putting his head in his hands, hands tightening in his hair before he scrubbed down his face. He felt Hakyeon's hands smooth across his back as he hunched forward, feeling the first couple of tears wet his palms. He had been trying so hard to keep them in check that he couldn't seem to control them now that he had finally caved.

                This was different from before and it wasn't lost on Taekwoon how quickly his life was starting to descend in its spiral.

                His friend lulled him with soft words as Sanghyuk started packing for him.


	11. Ten

                Wonshik woke up to the evening sun in his eyes, his bedroom blinds not drawn from the night before. Ah, he remembered. He had walked in from the airport and had passed out immediately, his clothes wrinkled and pressing their seams into his skin, despite sleeping on the plane home.

                Hardcore pain medicine could do that to you.

                Although now, his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his aching body ached even more. The day or two after a big fight always felt like hell.

                And that had been a fight. A huge, disastrous, embarrassing fight.

                Closing his eyes, he pushed the details to the back of his mind where he couldn't find them easily. Instead, he thought of water. Water and more narcotics.

                Feeling his muscles tear with each move, Wonshik sat up, the tenderness of his limbs and back overwhelming as he felt the involuntary groan leave his lips. God, he felt like shit.

                Ears perking, the young man looked towards the door, hearing the knocking. Was it knocking?

                Hobbling out of bed and into the hallway, he confirmed the rapping at his door was definitely knocking. Was it Jae? Or Kyungmin? Probably Kyungmin to reprimand him for such a fight. His trainer had already expressed how disappointed he had been—not because Wonshik had lost, but because Wonshik had allowed himself to get distracted.

                Dark eyes watched the door now. Distracted was the word, wasn't it?

                But not in the octagon. Outside, his mind stuck on a brunette with a boyfriend who didn't treat him well. On a man who wanted to kiss him but wouldn't. On a man with the interesting back tattoo.

                Opening the door, he expected Kyungmin to push past, grunting how he was costing them money and if he wanted to waste their time, it'd be easier to just throw the matches—at least then, they could bet against him.

                But instead, he saw that face that had been his distraction.

                Those tempting eyes widened and Wonshik remembered what his face looked like, sure it looked even worse now that he was rumpled and his hair was probably sticking up every which way. But at least he was clothed this time—never mind he had been wearing them for the past day and a half.

                "Wonshik."

                It was gentle and soothing and odd enough, the blonde wanted him to repeat it. It stroked a broken part of him, the part that was also disappointed.

                "Taekwoon," he murmured and stepped aside. The other stood in the threshold for a moment more, eyes darting around his face as he passed. "I know, I look like shit."

                That was an understatement. He was purple-red all over, with large splotches along his ribs and his thighs. He had a particularly spectacular bruise on his jaw—the fatal blow—and while his left eye had receded in its swelling, it was dark and angry and bled into the bruising around the bridge of his nose and underneath his right eyes. His nose had been fractured again and at this point, his doctor just laughed.

                He looked like he had been in an accident. His body felt as if he had, the pounding at the back of his head starting to grow with each moment standing. Where were those pain meds?

                "I watched, you know?"

                Blinking, Wonshik felt his mouth curl before the thought even processed fully. Because Taekwoon's voice was so soft that it didn't matter what he looked like, did it?

                "So I can't lie and tell you I won, huh?"

                The older man attempted a smile but his eyes were studying him again and it made Wonshik uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being observed like that.

                "Does this mean I owe you dinner?" the blonde asked, trying to alleviate the tension.

                Lifting his arms, Wonshik suddenly saw the reusable bags filled with groceries. Laughing felt uncomfortable so the blonde didn't do it for long. But he did find it funny that the other had bought ingredients for the dinner he was going to have to make for him.

                "But, I'm cooking for you."

                Shaking his head, Wonshik closed his eyes against the dull pain of a headache. "No, that wasn't our—"

                "You look like the walking dead," Taekwoon said flatly. "I'm not going to make you do anything."

                "So then," the other suggested because there was a part of him that did want to make good on their bet, "how about once I am back to normal, I cook you that dinner."

                "But what about tonight—"

                "Tonight, we order out."

                It was easy making plans, as if they were friends, as if they were comfortable with each other. Taekwoon sighed, watching him for a moment longer before going to the blonde's refrigerator, putting away the groceries. As if he had been there before.

                Which he had, Wonshik mused. He had made him chicken and vegetables.

                Suddenly realizing he must smell like a dumpster, he brought an arm up and immediately wrinkled his nose—at both the odor and the whine of his ligaments.

                "I'm going to take a shower. You can order whatever you want, I'm paying." He held up a hand to stop any further talking. "I just got my ass handed to me, please don't make me feel any worse than I already do, ok?"

                Taekwoon's face lifted with his light smile, then he bowed his head and it was ok that Wonshik would have to entertain when all he wanted to do was pop some pills and call it a night.

                It was ok that Taekwoon had come by.

 

*

 

                Taekwoon saw it out of the corner of his eyes, the figure of a freshly showered Wonshik. His eyes were wide and it produced a shy smile on the brunette's face.

                His footsteps were hesitant, not because he was uncertain, but because his body had been badly beaten. It was written all over the younger man's face with each pace forward. His long blonde hair hung in front of his face and below the platinum blonde were smudges of purple, his eyes hidden beneath the color. Wonshik looked destroyed.

                Which is why Taekwoon had ignored his request to order dinner and had instead set out to cook what he had promised he was going to. It wasn't even anything exciting or elaborate, simple ramen with a couple fresh ingredients he had picked up. In fact, he had gotten the recipe from Jaehwan and hoped it was good.

                Tilting his nose up, Wonshik finally smiled.

                "You said ok," he accused though he took a gingerly seat at the bar stool at the kitchen island where Taekwoon was cutting up scallions.

                "I sighed. I didn't say yes or no," he said easily, bowing his head as he felt the urge to bite his lips. Wonshik had a tank top with large cut outs for sleeve holes that showed off his shoulders and sides, and if he leaned just a tad bit more forward, Taekwoon was sure he could see the point of a tan nipple.

                Flushing, he looked at what he was cutting. Scallions, he reminded himself.

                Then his eyes raised to Wonshik's. Even battered and bruised, he was gorgeous. It made the brunette want to kiss each and every wound, wanted to let his hands, gentle and soothing, smooth over his body to make him feel good. He wanted so bad to make Wonshik feel good.

                Swallowing, he heard the broth start to bubble.

                "What are you making?

                "Just ramen," he answered, stirring the soup, adding the green onions he had been chopping, then he threw Wonshik a simper.

                "Just ramen? That's a delicacy in my world."

                "I know, it's all protein, shakes and vitamins." Then as if realizing what he had said, he turned towards the pot.

                Wonshik chuckled lowly, his deep voice scratchy. "Ah, the best friend."

                Best friend.

                "How long have you been friends?"

                Taekwoon didn't want to talk about Joonki—especially since the two hadn't spoken since their fight two days earlier. But to not would seem suspicious.

                "15 years."

                The words fell from his lips with a heaviness that was now synonymous with their history. That was a shame. They had met as boys through soccer, the shy Taekwoon finding the outgoing Joonki like a beacon in the night. And Joonki had been welcoming, liking how quiet he was because it gave him more opportunity to talk.

                Hindsight was always 20/20, wasn't it? Even 11 year old Joonki spoke of their future.

                "Wow. That's… amazing. How old are you?"

                Blushing, Taekwoon shook his head, watching the bubbles again. "25."

                Wonshik widened his eyes and the brunette rolled his eyes. "Don't do that, that’s crazy! I don't have anyone but family that I've known since I was 10. That’s quite an accolade."

                If he only knew.

                "How long have you known your best friend?" Taekwoon asked, turning to lean his back against the counter next to the stovetop. He crossed his arms as he watched Wonshik watch him. There was a bit of a change and for the first time, there was an uneasiness to the blonde's movements. He was always so sure, even when he was shutting down Taekwoon. Now, he looked as if he wanted to slink away if his body would allow it. But he was stuck to the chair and under the brunette's stare.

                "I don't have a best friend."

                Brow furrowing, Taekwoon tilted his head slightly. "How is that—"

                "I've been training since I was a child. I moved around a lot, depending on the opportunity. I headed over to Thailand when I was 16 and then came back a couple years later to fight. So." There was a minute shrug of his shoulders, accompanied with an uncomfortable flex of his body as if that small action reverberated with an ache. "I haven't really had time to get to know anyone."

                The words were spoken with a frankness that told of the world being the way it was, but Taekwoon felt his chest tighten with empathy. To be so lonely and to justify it with the opportunity to do what you love was heart breaking. It made Taekwoon want to touch Wonshik even more, now for reasons other than his own yearning.

                "Well, we're friends."

                That got a signature smile on the younger man's face and the fighter shifted in his seat again, this time reaching for the water Taekwoon had set out for him. He had taken care of Joonki enough to know what Wonshik needed after a fight. The thought flitted throughout his body, raising soft tingles along his back.

                "Well then I should tell you, as a friend," Wonshik teased though his smile fell a second later and he looked to his hands. "The only thing I request is that if I ever ask you how you feel about me, please don't lie."

                Taekwoon's body shuddered and suddenly flushed with heat, the steam seeming to sputter from the lidded pot beside them. Both their eyes shot to it and he quickly turned, closing his eyes as he removed the lid and felt the condensation waft up and around him. It was out of left field, it was off putting. Why would Wonshik ask that of him?

                But he did not question it or brush it off or act like that was a silly thing to request, them being _friends_ and all. Instead, he finished cooking and then put a bowl in front of Wonshik who smiled regretfully but appreciatively a second later after picking up his spoon.

                Taekwoon sat down next to him as well, smiling when he heard him slurp. Looking over, Wonshik laughed, sucking in a couple stray noodles.

                "I'm hungry," he explained, chewing as he spoke. The brunette shook his head and then grabbed his own spoon and chopsticks, hesitating before actually starting. Then he looked over, realizing that he hadn't eaten dinner with anyone other than Joonki in a while. The last was his parents and they had been at a restaurant, Joonki laughing loudly with his father and it was nice.

                This was nice, too.

                "Hey. My friend has this, like… game night every month. Um, it's on Friday if you would want to come."

                Wonshik paused mid-suck, wide eyes watching Taekwoon. He bit down, the noodles falling from his lips as he considered it.

                "It's not that I can't _get_ friends, Taekwoon—"

                "I'm not saying you can't." Then the brunette blew over the soup in his spoon. "I just want you to come."

 

*

 

                "Taekwoon's on his way up!"

                "Taekwoon's coming?"

                That was Hongbin who was pleasantly surprised. Sanghyuk beside him shook his head, sure he had told the older man that already.

                "Yes, he's staying here—of course he's coming. But wait," the youngest asked, suddenly, questioning the situation himself. "Where is he coming from?"

                Hakyeon laughed, bringing over the platter of fruits and cheeses, laying it on the low table they were all crowded around in the living room. Beside it were multiple board games, another platter filled with vegetables and then beer bottles. Those were Sanghyuk and Jaehwan's. Hakyeon had a glass of sweet wine, not much for the acrid taste of beer or the tart aftertaste of dry wines. Taekwoon always teased him for it. Hongbin didn't drink and they _all_ teased him for that.

                Before the eldest could explain that Taekwoon had said he was going to pick up something from the store, the door opened and said man appeared, pink cheeks gaining attention as all the occupants squealed at his entrance. The blush deepened and he stepped in, turning to look back.

                Then the squealing stopped as a second person came through the threshold, his eyes sweeping from the tall brunette to the other four around the table. The stranger smiled slightly.

                Hongbin sighed, Jaehwan brightened, Sanghyuk swallowed and Hakyeon's jaw dropped. Taekwoon groaned.

                "Um, everyone, this is Wonshik. Wonshik, this is everyone," the brunette said shortly, slipping out of his shoes easily, starting towards the kitchen to grab a drink. Wonshik stayed behind, bowing as he removed his own shoes then his eyes landed on Hakyeon. They widened slightly but then settled back down.

                "What a great introduction Taekwoonie," the oldest man said sarcastically with a bite, then turning to Wonshik. "Welcome to my humble abode. I'm Hakyeon, your host," he smiled and the blonde chuckled. "I've actually seen you before. I went to your fight in Tokyo with Taekwoon."

                At that, Wonshik nodded, throwing Taekwoon a glance before coming back to the black haired man. "Ah, so are you the boyfriend?"

                There was a clink in the kitchen from where the brunette had dropped the wine bottle opener, all eyes flying to the young man. Wonshik's brow furrowed.

                Hakyeon started laughing.

 

*

 

                "Why would I bring you to my boyfriend's game night?"

                Taekwoon wasn't upset, far from it, but he knew he was going to get such shit from his friends at Wonshik's simple question. Plus, he wasn't that cruel. And he certainly wasn't stupid—if he could help it, Joonki would _never_ know Wonshik's name and vice versa.

                "I recognized him from the fight. And I remember you telling me you had a boyfriend that night. Broke my little heart."

                At that, Taekwoon rolled his eyes, picking up his glass of Chardonnay, raising it to his lips. The others had all been introduced and while Hakyeon was trying to pick their first game, Wonshik and Taekwoon were in the narrow kitchen getting their drinks. A glass of white for Taekwoon, a glass of red for Wonshik.

                That had surprised the brunette. The younger man had definitely seemed like a Soju or beer kind of guy but when he had asked for anything red, then explained that if he was going to drink, he wanted the least amount of calories and to have some antioxidant counts. Even though he was off for the next week, he was always in training mode.

                It impressed Taekwoon. He was so responsible, so dedicated, it churned something in his belly.

                "So how do you know Jaehwan?" Wonshik asked as they settled against the counter, staring at each other as the others roared in their ears.

                "Grocery store—how do _you_ know Jaehwan?" And Taekwoon hadn't meant for it to sound so pointed but he had realized quickly upon seeing the auburn haired man's reaction to Wonshik that there was some sense of familiarity between them. Jealousy was a petty emotion but it burned bright in the older man.

                It had been so long since he had been jealous of some _one_ and not something.

                "Grocery store. He's so chatty," Wonshik laughed and Taekwoon agreed. That was one of the reasons they had become friends just a short couple of months ago. They had always talked when Taekwoon would stop by the store, always going to Jaehwan's line regardless of length and eventually he had invited the younger man out to dinner with he and Hakyeon and they had all become friendly. This was Jaehwan's second game night, though you wouldn't be able to tell with how bossy he had become, shutting down Hongbin's choice of game.

                Sadly, this was Taekwoon's first game night since he was normally with Joonki. His nights were always Joonki's.

                A fact that Hongbin wouldn't let go as they all sat around the living room table, Wonshik hesitantly reaching for a piece of celery. Taekwoon snorted.

                "I was so surprised you were coming tonight, Taekwoon-hyung. Now you can keep Hakyeon-hyung honest." The young man received a neck chop for that and they all laughed as Hakyeon went to do it again, this time to Snaghyuk who had made a follow up disparaging remark with a smile. Taekwoon watched them then side eyed Wonshik who was also watching, a small curve to his lips. The look on his face made the brunette want to soar, his anxiety from showing Wonshik his world disappearing with that one look. Because Wonshik didn't have any friends and though it was too soon to tell, he felt like this was good for the fighter. Everyone needed a support system.

                "OK, enough talking children—are we ready to play or not?" an exasperated Hakyeon asked, settling back in his seat next to Wonshik. He spread out the game but then quickly halted everyone, raising up his half empty glass. "A toast to Taekwoonie and Wonshik's first game night. And to my inevitable victories over you assholes."

                Glass clinked as they all raised their drinks, Taekwoon melting slightly at the soft laugh from Wonshik next to him. Their eyes met as they both took a drink, the brunette licking his lips, Chardonnay on his tongue. The blonde raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting.

                "Wonshik, how about you take the first roll?" Hakyeon announced loudly.

 

*

 

                "Something is definitely going on."

                Hakyeon looked towards the pair by the couch, Taekwoon sitting on the armrest, Wonshik standing in front of him. Closely in front of him, as in with one more step he'd be in between the brunette's legs.

                "It's like they're not being obvious but they are, ya know?" Sanghyuk asked and the eldest shot him a look. It wasn't hard but it also told him to tread lightly. That there was more to this story than just Taekwoon got into a huge fight with Joonki and poof—magically he shows up with the hunky fighter they had seen the night of said fight.

                "I think they've been friends for a while," Hakyeon tried to do some damage control, knowing their friends were gossips and could turn a mole hill into a mountain. But Sanghyuk raised an eyebrow.

                "Is that why you gave him that look in the store?" Before Hakyeon could question what the youngest was even talking about, Jaehwan butt in, sighing slightly.

                "Goodness gracious, he is so attractive though."

                Laughing, Hongbin agreed. Sanghyuk shrugged. They all watched Wonshik who wore a simple pewter t-shirt over tight jeans that gripped his thighs just _right_ and boots. He had on a long beanie, bright blonde hair peeking out over his forehead, shorter than it had been at the fight, and it was such a contrast to his sun kissed skin which was a contrast to the dark tattoos along his body. Hakyeon realized he was staring at the thin one below his ear, along his neck. Even his bruises were attractive, their fadings adding character.

                "You ain't never lied," the eldest found himself murmuring. "I'm single," he declared loudly, gaining the attention of said blonde and Taekwoon, who looked over. "Just, thought I'd make that clear."

                "I'm single, too. Just in case," Hongbin added.

                Taekwoon raised an eyebrow, one that Jaehwan laughed loudly at. Sanghyuk groaned and sank into his seat around the table.

                "Well that’s good," Wonshik purred as he took a step away from the brunette, throwing him a glance as he finished. "I'm single too."

                Taekwoon took out his anger on the others with their losing punishments, his two fingers causing damage after each round. He even started to play in games he hadn't intended, just with the hope of winning and being able to flick Hakyeon in the middle of his forehead hard.

                It quickly became one of the more fun game nights.

 

*

 

                That was until Joonki had called Taekwoon and the room grew quiet. With heavy fingers, the brunette answered the call with a swipe, heading towards the bedroom, quietly closing the door. He could feel the stares behind him, one in particular, but he tried to clear his mind.

                "Hello?"

                "You answered."

                As if he wouldn't. It had been a week and Taekwoon would be lying if he didn't miss Joonki a little bit. But that wasn't why he answered.

                "We need to talk about us, don't we?"

                That’s why he had answered, knowing to keep quiet would just allow this to fester. And to pretend like it never happened would only exacerbate that festering.

                "Can I say I miss you first?" Joonki asked and it was so pitiful it started to tug a string. But then he heard the others laugh and suddenly, that string was cut.

                "Joonki, this isn't going to go away with promises and terms of endearment. I don't want to go through another year of this—"

                "I know," the older man said quickly. "I know. That's why we're not. I am going to do better—"

                Taekwoon felt his shoulders fall. "You _always_ say that, Joon. You always promise me you're going to make this right and you never do. I just."

                Taking a deep breath he listened to Joonki on the other line, continuously vowing that this time would be different, that they'd be different this time. But at Taekwoon's silence, another emotion replaced the desperation in his boyfriend's voice.

                "You've never given up on us before."

                The statement dripped with frustration that made the brunette squeeze his eyes closed.

                "I'm not giving up—"

                "You are." A pause. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm the one you should be with?"

                "Joonki," Taekwoon whined, putting a hand to his forehead. "It's not—"

                "What do I have to do? We have too much history, Taek. Don't you think, after years together, that we would have moved on if we weren't made for each other? We had plenty of opportunities."

                "Joon—"

                "But we didn't," Joonki carried on hurriedly, ignoring that Taekwoon had started speaking and the brunette was starting to get uneasy. There was slice that opened that made him wish he could just say ok and go back to normal. Why couldn't he just say ok and go back to normal?

                "Joonki—"

                "I love you, Taekwoon. I love you more than I love anything in this world. If you ever left me…"

                Brow furrowing, anger rushed forward and Taekwoon felt goosebumps along his shoulders and neck.

                "That's not fair," he whispered.

                There was a silence and then he heard Joonki sniffle, tears in his voice. "How is that not fair? Does it make you feel guilty? Is that why you don't want to come home? Because then you'll have to apologize for the shit you're doing behind my back? I swear, when I find that son of a bitch you're seeing—"

                Taekwoon hung up and curled his fingers into his palm, indentations stinging as he fought to calm his heartbeat. Why had the _thought_ he could just say ok and go back to normal? What was _he_ doing?

                Standing from Hakyeon's bed, he opened the door to a loud Jaehwan, sputtering slightly and when he rounded the corner he saw the auburn haired man in a standing submission hold by Wonshik, the others staring at the two.

                "And basically, if you get your arm wedged in here, there's no escaping. Within probably like… 20 seconds, the person will be out cold," Wonshik was saying around Jaehwan's head, the other whimpering and the blonde laughed, releasing him just as Taekwoon stepped forward. All eyes met his and he couldn’t help his tentative smile. Wonshik blushed. "They wanted me to show them some holds."

                "He's teaching us self-defense," Hongbin said sweetly and Taekwoon didn't miss the look he gave Wonshik. Nor the look Wonshik gave back. It was innocent enough but they were all looking like Wonshik was this golden statue on a pedestal and he could feel the spikes of possessiveness drive through his core.

                And watching Wonshik, with his amazingly toned body and his smile that had grown the entire night, he realized he wanted to bottle that. He wanted to touch him and ask him to stay. He wanted to do anything and everything and the jealous spikes now turned into selfish hooks. He _could_ touch that. He _could_ do anything and everything. He _could_ ask Wonshik to stay.  

                Joonki thought something was going on, anyways.

                "We have to go," Taekwoon said suddenly, reaching to grab Wonshik's arm, hand sliding down to fit into the blonde's palm. The younger man looked at it and then up again. No one said a word as the pair started to leave until Wonshik turned slightly.

                "See you all later. Thanks for—" the door shut behind them and Wonshik then found his back against the wall right outside the apartment. Taekwoon put his body weight against him and there was a slight groan that left the blonde's lips, his hands reaching up to dive into chocolate strands, pulling as the brunette put his palms against the other's chest, their faces coming together.

                But never touching because Wonshik wouldn't let them, his hands fisting in Taekwoon's hair, holding him from leaning forward. Eyes searched his and then those fingers loosened but didn't disappear.

                "What are you doing?"

                The brunette closed his eyes then and sighed. He had asked himself that same question. He didn't quite know. All he did know was he wanted Wonshik, wanted him in more ways than one, wanted him more than he could remember wanting Joonki.

                Opening his eyes, he pinned the blonde with his gaze.

                "We're going back to your place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for putting up with the very slow burn <3


	12. Eleven

                If Wonshik had said it once, he had said it ten times.

                "What are you doing now?"

                He was asking as they made their way into his apartment, not inside the threshold before Taekwoon was stretching out of his shirt, laying it along the couch. Wonshik couldn't help it as his mouth watered, his eyes trailing the black ink along the older man's spine.

                Then his eyes popped open as he saw the other start to lower his pants, underwear and all and he stopped in his tracks.

                "What happened?"

                Taekwoon paused then. There was a moment of indecision and Wonshik started towards him. It was slightly reminiscent but his mind was too fogged to think about the similarities to the night that the brunette had come to him in the middle of the night. Instead, he was too focused on the fact that the entire cab ride back to his place, Taekwoon had kept a heavy hand on his thigh, looking out the window. It had been ominous and promising but Wonshik was so confused, so not in control and it was putting him on edge.

                "What changed?"

                The brunette resumed undressing, pushing his jeans and his boxers down his long thighs, bending over and Wonshik would be lying if seeing the other's naked body didn't cause a gut wrenching reaction. His hands reached forward on their own.

                Righting himself to stand, Taekwoon stepped out of his clothes, speaking over his shoulder as he started towards the master bedroom.

                "I'm going to take a shower."

                Shower?

                Then, "Are you coming?"

 

*

 

                Wonshik stood in front of him, carefully peeling off his shirt. His ribs were still sore but it was the good kind of stretch when he started on his pants, Taekwoon's hands stopping him. Not taking his eyes off the older man, he didn't protest as fingers started to lower his zipper, ten then slipping underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. They delved under as Taekwoon took a step closer, their thighs an inch apart. There was warmth between them and when flat palms smoothed from the sides of his hips to the front of his body, tips ghosted over his sensitive skin.

                Immediately he brought his hands to Taekwoon's.

                Wonshik wanted to kiss him before he touched his cock.

                Running his hands up arms that were longer than his, he ended at the edge of the broad shoulders. Pulling slightly, their thighs finally touched, their groins pressing together as their chests bumped. Wonshik wrapped his arms around those shoulders, pressing his face into Taekwoon's hair, the other man's head coming to his shoulder, the act of the hug suddenly bubbling with something else entirely.

                But then the blonde felt the other's cock against his and a groan fell from his lips, his mouth lifting to whisper into Taekwoon's ear, brushing the skin with each word.

                "Don't overthink this."

                It was the last thing spoken before Taekwoon turned his head and caught his mouth, Wonshik angling his head as he finally released a breath he had been holding. Closing his lips then opening them, he pressed against the brunette's naked body, their chests hot against each other.

                Their tongues touched with a snap, Taekwoon's hands suddenly shoving themselves in Wonshik's unbuttoned jeans, palming his erection as the blonde tore his face away with a gasp, eyes falling to the scene, letting his cheek rest against the brunette's as he watched the normally gentle hands knead him through his boxer briefs, the outline disappearing as Taekwoon put a hand into them. He pumped with a maddeningly slow pace but his grip was tight and it was both good and bad.

                Wonshik wanted to see his hand wrapped around him.

                Stepping away, he pushed down his jeans and his underwear, taking a step out of them. Then he put a hand to his cock, stroking himself as watched Taekwoon. He wanted everything in that moment: he wanted to kiss him to the floor, he wanted to feel his lips molding to the head of his dick, he wanted to push into him and feel that heat.

                The brunette's pink tongue swiped over his bottom lip before he brought it in between his teeth, biting down.

                Wonshik felt his belly fire as he pushed Taekwoon to the glass of the shower stall, the other's whine music to his ears as the younger man covered his mouth with his. Their erections were brushing with each movement and as they rutted against each other, the older man's hands found Wonshik's newly cut hair, yanking when the blonde's hands found his lower back, palms flat as they rounded Taekwoon's ass.

                "Turn around."

                Taekwoon blinked, licking his lips and fuck, if Wonshik didn't want to devour him every time he did that. But the brunette lowered his leg and turned, placing his forearms against the glass, pressing his forehead against it as Wonshik ran his hands along the long flexing muscles of his back, finally trailing his middle finger along the tattoo.

                The Space Between, it spelled in thin black lettering.

                Something moved inside Wonshik's chest and he leaned his weight into Taekwoon, his cock fitting perfectly in between the older man's crack. Both moaned and the blonde moved his hips, as if he was fucking him and the brunette whimpered slightly.

                They both knew where he needed to be.

                But Wonshik liked the sounds spilling from the other's mouth. He leaned his chest against Taekwoon's back, feeling the skin flex against his and when the younger man's hand came up the other's front, the hand that had the skull tattoo on it, he grabbed Taekwoon's chin and raised it, leaning into his ear.

                "What do you want?" But before the brunette could say anything, Wonshik had a wicked thought that made his dick jump. Taekwoon took a pained inhalation. "What won't he do?"

                The older man closed his eyes at that, Wonshik kissing slowly across his cheek, turning Taekwoon's head to the side to meet him in a sweep of their lips. Then he stared.

                A blush had reddened the older man's cheeks, a slight sheen of sweat painting his face. He looked absolutely gorgeous. And he was beneath Wonshik's battered hands, his rough thumb reaching up to smooth across Taekwoon's mouth. It parted under his touch and he ran the pad over a sharp canine.  

                It didn't matter what his boyfriend wouldn't do. Because there would be nothing that Wonshik would leave untouched on the man before him. He didn't think he had the will power to not and the thought startled him a bit. He was going to have to remember to take it easy.

                Because when he started, it was hard for him to stop.

                "He won't kiss me."

                Wonshik returned to the present, brow furrowing. "He won't kiss you?"

                Feline eyes closed softly as the rouge on his cheeks deepened. He reached for his lip again with his teeth and Wonshik intercepted it, catching him in a kiss that had him swiveling his hips into the other, still tightly settled against Taekwoon's ass.

                "There," said brunette murmured into his mouth, tongue reaching out to touch his again. Wonshik obliged, groaning when he pulled away. "He won't kiss me _there_ ," he finally elaborated.

                The corner of Wonshik's mouth curved and Taekwoon exhaled hotly.

                Kissing him one more time, Wonshik pulled away to trail his mouth over the knot at the back of his neck, down the vertebrae of Taekwoon's spine, over the words etched into the older man's skin. He sank to his knees, the tile uncomfortable and hard but it was in the corner of his mind that it registered. Because his eyes were looking up at the strong back of the brunette and thinking he was his for this moment.

                His hands ran up the back of Taekwoon's thighs, the strong muscles beneath his hands trembling as he rounded them and grabbed the older man's hips, nails gripping as he dragged them around again, this time to the brunette's ass.

                Spreading, he heard Taekwoon whimper lowly, hand automatically coming to his groin. Leaning in close, he whispered against the soft skin of the brunette's body.

                "Put your hands on the glass."

                The moment the palms pressed to the clear stall, Wonshik touched him with his tongue, Taekwoon's entrance quivering in response.

                "I'll make you come without touching yourself."

                It was a promise he intended to keep as he pressed forward again, tongue laving at the other, Taekwoon's breathing starting to become labored, his hips pushing back against Wonshik's face.

                "I'm going to…" the other moaned, long as his tongue encroached right past his seal. "Shit, I'm going to—"

                Suddenly, Wonshik backed off, feeling the other stutter at the loss and his head turned back to look at the blonde like he was crazy. He almost looked mad.

                Wonshik smirked, standing, touching their lips before he brought two fingers to his mouth, sucking on them. He then put them where his tongue had just been, pressing into Taekwoon with a steady hand. He breathed out as he felt the heat, having to lean his head on the other's shoulder to contain himself.

                But he realized something very apparent as he pushed the digits in until the knuckle, his dark tattoos looking amazing against the pale white skin of Taekwoon's ass. Said man was moaning shortly, riding his fingers and palms pressing heavily on the glass in front of them.

                This time, when he was about to come, Taekwoon didn't say anything, just arched his back and tightened his ass. Wonshik even hummed some at the feeling, the seizing clamp around his fingers as the brunette came against the outside of the shower stall.

                Wonshik couldn't wait before he reached behind him and tore open the foil wrapper of the condom, spitting out the corner. Rolling it on himself, he removed his fingers and lined himself up.

                _"Wonshik! Are you here?"_

                Both eyes popped open, his head right before the entrance of Taekwoon's body and it pulsed in reply. Wonshik's body shook and for a second, the blonde wanted to pretend he didn't hear it but Taekwoon wouldn’t let him as he carefully straightened looking at the younger man over his shoulder. Wonshik cursed, biting at the other's shoulder, kissing it as he sighed.

                "Stay here," he gritted out, stepping away to rip on his pants. He stalked out into the living room, seeing Kyungmin starting to walk into his bedroom. Wonshik's eyes lowered dangerously. "What are you doing here?" And why had he used his emergency set of the blonde's keys?

                His manager eyed him suspiciously. "Where are your clothes?"

                "What are you doing here, Kyungmin?" Wonshik responded, taking a deep inhale through his nose. Knowing Taekwoon was feet away, naked had his erection throbbing and who knew when he'd have this chance again—

                "I have some good news."


	13. Twelve

                "Wonshik! Are you here?"

                Both eyes popped open, his head right before the entrance of Taekwoon's body and it pulsed in reply. Wonshik's body vibrated and for a second, the blonde wanted to pretend he didn't hear it but Taekwoon wouldn’t let him as his carefully straightened looking at the younger man over his shoulder. Wonshik cursed, biting at the other's shoulder, kissing it as he sighed.

                "Stay here," he gritted out, stepping away to rip on his pants. He stalked out into the living room, seeing Kyungmin starting to walk into his bedroom. Wonshik's eyes lowered dangerously. "What are you doing here?" And why had he used his emergency set of the blonde's keys?

                His manager eyed him suspiciously. "Where are your clothes?"

                "What are you doing here?" Wonshik repeated, taking a deep inhale through his nose. Knowing Taekwoon was feet away, naked and ready, had his erection throbbing and who knew when he'd have this chance again—

                "I have some good news."

                "Is my contract being reappraised?"

                "No—"

                "Am I going for a title fight?"

                Kyungmin's brow furrowed. "No, Wonshik—"

                "Then call me later. I'm busy," he growled out, turning to leave. Had his manager not seen the clothes in the hallway?

                "St. Francois tested positive for steroids," Kyungmin called out to retreating figure. Wonshik's feet stalled.

                Suddenly, his manager had all of his attention, the blonde turning around slowly to stare at the older man. Kyungmin smiled widely, holding his hands out as if he was giving him a gift.

                "We called for a rematch."

                Wonshik's jaw dropped.

                "And they answered."

                Feeling his skin breakout in a sweat, Wonshik couldn't smile but felt his lips twitch. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. What was this feeling—the daunting feeling of being held up by a string, precarious yet anxious. Why had they… How had they…

                Kyungmin grinned, his eyes forming half moon crescents. "They're talking 250."

                Wonshik blinked. "2-250?" his deep voice rang out.

                His manager just started laughing then, the sound registering but not computing, adding to the uncertainty of the young man's thoughts. Was this real?

                Was Kyungmin playing a joke?

                Was this _real?_

                "Wonshik, do you know what this means?" Kyungmin suddenly grabbed Wonshik's face, still a little tender from his last fight. But the older man had tears in his eyes— elated, thrilled tears and the blonde withered a little, giving into the temptation of believing those words.

                "$250,000 for one fight. You made it, Shikkie. You made it."

                There was a pause and then Wonshik felt his stomach drop and start to vibrate at the same time, turning as he felt his own body start to quake.

                He had worked so hard for this moment, the moment when he was recognized for his effort. The moment when he would be taken serious in the sport, his dedication appreciated and his sacrifices worth it. The moment when the ends justified the means.

                Moisture blurred his vision and his lips trembled as tears threatened to fall. He had finally achieved his goal.

                "Now get dressed, we need to head to the office," Kyungmin said easily, bringing the blonde back down before he could totally lose it, looking around to see what he could carry.

                "What?" Wonshik asked then repeated himself. "Wait, what?"

                "We need to go. We have a call with the President himself, he wants to talk to you."

                _What?_

                "I lost, Kyungmin," Wonshik said slowly. There was no reason to be rewarded for losing.

                His manager, whose pleased smile dimmed slightly, nodded. "You did. And I wish I could have beat you myself because you weren't paying attention. But it remains that you went three rounds with someone who was cheating, a guy who had the advantage. You held your own up until a minute before the end of the third. If he hadn't knocked you out, it was going to be a decision match. You would have lost because he had two rounds to your one, Wonshik. But it would have been close and that gets noticed.

                "So hurry and get your shit together. You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?"

                Wonshik started smiling then, chills running along his body as he laughed shortly then looked around. Too many thoughts were running around his brain: Steroids, _250-fucking-thousand_ , rematch.

                "What the fuck?" he whispered as he put his hands through his hair, scrubbing at his scalp as he tried to make sense of what was going on. Then he reached down to zip up his pants and saw the rib of the condom on his dick. Eyes widening, he rushed to the bathroom where Taekwoon sat on the edge of the tub, now with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes found the blonde's and immediately, Wonshik came over.

                Grabbing the older man's face, much like Kyungmin had grabbed his, he brought their lips together and it was electrifying. It was swift and hurried, but it wasn't meant to be leisurely. He just needed to get the pent up energy out somehow.

                Because he had received really good news.

                Gentle hands came to his shoulders, Taekwoon's mouth opening in a moan as Wonshik brought him to stand. The blonde angled his head, reaching into the brunette's mouth as his hands curled around the other.

                Pulling away, Wonshik leaned his head against the older man's forehead. "God, if I could fuck you into the walls right now, I would."

                Taekwoon made a light noise and his hands turned into claws, digging his nails into Wonshik's back.

                "You're shaking," the brunette murmured, pulling away slightly, brow furrowed.

                Eyes lifting, the younger man caught Taekwoon's. "I made it."

                The tears were back and as if he understood, though he clearly didn't, the brunette kissed him again, this time slow and promising. Wonshik felt it in his toes, the soft sweep of his lips gone too quickly as he reached for them. Taekwoon let him capture them again.

                Palms settled against the blonde's ribs, bringing their hips together as their half hard cocks pressed forward. Wonshik groaned into Taekwoon's mouth, the other sucking on his tongue.

                "Wonshik, what the fuck are you doing? I said, com—"

                Taekwoon snapped away, hands coming to his groin as he pushed behind Wonshik. The blonde just groaned, forgetting that his manager was there and waiting for him. Waiting for him to go get dressed so they could head to the office. Head to the office to call the UFC President.

                "Shit," he cursed, suddenly realizing, mind buzzing all over again, head turning in circles. And by the look of it, Kyungmin had no patience for it.

                "You, get lost," he told Taekwoon and then turned to the younger man. "Wonshik, if I have to tell you one more time to get dressed, I'm quitting."

                Taekwoon didn't move and Wonshik looked over at the brunette, chuckling at the look he wore. That much he could process. Kyungmin was used to groupies; Taekwoon was definitely not one.

                "Kyungmin, give me a minute and I'll be out."

                His manager shook his head. "30 seconds." Then he left, the blonde turning to Taekwoon who had an uncomfortable and confused face on.

                "Sorry," Wonshik apologized, reaching for the other's neck. Smiling, he tried to compose his thoughts. "I have to go but I promise I will explain when I get back."

                The brunette's brow wrinkled then relaxed. "You want me to stay?"

                Now it was Wonshik's turn to look perplexed. "Why would I want you to leave?"

 

*

                But when Wonshik got back in the house around two in the morning, Taekwoon was gone. He had left a note saying he had headed home. That he'd see him around.

                Soon. 

*

                Taekwoon opened the door to Hakyeon's apartment with his spare key.  

                "Hmm, you're back awfully late."

                The brunette rolled his eyes then put his keys in the dish on the table. Hakyeon was curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around him as the TV illuminated his sleepy face with blue. It was at past one am, why was Hakyeon awake?

                "I just wanted to see if you were ok. You left your phone here."

                Taekwoon came over and sat down, reaching for said device. Blinking at it, he registered the 13 missed calls and five texts from Joonki. He opened the messages.

_You're not even giving me a chance._

                He didn't read the others, sure they were more of the same. It would just upset him.

                Tonight, he didn't want to be upset. Not when all he could picture was Wonshik's face, that silly smile on his face as he left. Something had happened, something good because he could feel the vibes pulsing from the blonde's body. It had made Taekwoon feel good, too.

                "Can I say one thing and then I'll never say anything again?"

                Taekwoon realized he was smiling so he flattened his lips. "I don’t think I could realistically hold you to that."

                "Well, can I say this and I won't say it for a while?" Then thinking, Hakyeon laughed. "Unless I think you really need to hear it?"

                "Hakyeon-hyung, what?"

                The other lost his easy smile. "I don't always agree with your relationship with Joonki." Finding Taekwoon's eyes, he blinked. "I actually didn't really think you two were all that great together."

                Taekwoon wanted to ask why this was the first time he was hearing this but that was a stupid question. Hakyeon was his friend; Joonki was his oldest friend. Joonki was his lover. Joonki was everything—Taekwoon would have picked him every time.

                "But I felt like… you were ok with the position you were in. I mean," the older man continued, shifting, "even when you were venting, I never thought you were truly unhappy. At least not unhappy enough to leave."

                "Hakyeon—"

                "I just feel bad that it's come to this. And I know I am making this about me but I just have to get it out, ok?"

                The brunette nodded.

                "I'm sorry for not noticing. And I promise I will not be so oblivious to our friendship again, ok?"

                Smiling lightly, Taekwoon was about to tell him to stop getting mushy when Hakyeon continued.

                "With that, I want to say just… don't run into Wonshik's arms so quickly."

                The air got a little heavier with that statement and hastily, the brunette looked down at the phone in his hands, pressing the side button.

                "I won't—"

                "I've seen this before."

                Closing his eyes, Taekwoon sighed. Then he started getting up but Hakyeon wouldn't allow him to leave, instead pulling him into his lap slightly. The younger man gave him a glare but didn't move away.

                "You said I could say this at least once," he said, tugging him closer. He wrapped his arms around the other. "And I'm not saying this to be mean. But I've seen this before and you came out of it a little different."

                The younger man bit the inside of his cheek. "I messed up before."

                 "We _all_ mess up, Taekwoonie."

                 "But… I just." He caught Hakyeon's gaze, trying to push back the turmoil brewing just below the surface. "Joonki was all I ever wanted."

                "What do you want now?"

                Wonshik.

                But that wasn't the solution.

                "I don't want to talk anymore," he said quietly, meeting Hakyeon's eyes again. The older man nodded then called out to him when he raised and started towards the bedroom he and his friend were sharing.

                "I'm not saying Wonshik isn't the right one for right now. I'm just saying don't trade one for the other."

                Nodding again, Taekwoon headed into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with his arms spread out. His phone buzzed in his hand but he was too scared to see who it was. It was one of the two:

                His boyfriend-- at this point, ex-boyfriend who despite having been cheated on before was still willing to work things out.

                This guy who had just rimmed the fuck out of him then kissed him like he meant it, whose smile did wonders to Taekwoon's sad existence.

                Taekwoon hadn't stayed at Wonshik's because the guilt had crept forward, hovering over him like a shadow and staring at the ceiling wasn't making it go away. He and Joonki weren't together in an unconfirmed kind of way—but it had only been a week. Did he not respect Joonki enough to wait to fuck Wonshik?

                He had done it again, except this time… except this time, the remorse he had felt before was missing.

                That meant something.

                Screwing his eyes shut, Taekwoon buried into the covers, despite having all of his clothes on. One short vibration jolted the bed by his head. He didn't look at it so he didn't see it had been Wonshik who had called and left a message. In fact, he wouldn't listen to the voicemail until the next morning, the shame mixing with the indulgence at the sound of Wonshik's voice creating a turbulence he had never experienced before.

                Pressing his screen, Taekwoon listened to the message one more time.

                _"Stop leaving me notes."_ Pause _. "I came home thinking you'd be here but maybe it's a good thing you're not."_ Another pause. _"I have to fly out to Vancouver in the morning but I'll text you when I land."_ Silence. _"I hope this doesn't change everything. I was looking forward to the next game night. Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow and tell you what happened. It's big. Like really big. I was actually hoping to tell you about it tonight but—"_ A final pause. _"I don't know how to do this but I want us to be friends."_

                The line was dead and Taekwoon sighed. Hakyeon had asked the right question: what _did_ Taekwoon want?


	14. Thirteen

                "What's that face for?"

                Taekwoon was in a bad mood.

                Well, in a worse mood. Last night was the first night he really felt alone. It was also the first night he missed Joonki.

                So he had called the older man, hoping to at least find some closure between them. It was a moment of clarity painted with weakness and when he agreed to stop by to talk, Joonki had his boxes ready.

                Taekwoon had not expected that.

                "I've been thinking," the other said, somberly. His long arms were extended and he wasn't even letting Taekwoon in. In to the house they had moved in together, their first place in Seoul. Looking at Joonki's face, at the lines that seemed so much deeper and the brown of his eyes that felt so much darker. The last week had taken an emotional toll on the normally vibrant man. Joonki's understanding fatigued him and Taekwoon's body responded physically, his hands itching to touch. 

                But, instead of wanting to make it right, all Taekwoon could think of was Wonshik. And how his hands were warm and his eyes were light.

                "I think a break is what we need."

                Feline eyes looked up from the box in Joonki's hands. To hear him say it was good—it was the push they both needed. Because it wasn't healthy and it wasn't right.

                Even so, even with knowing just how right those words were, it felt odd to Taekwoon's ears none the less and the selfish part of himself wanted to say no. It wanted to explain this was all just Taekwoon's immature way of not understanding what he wanted and why Joonki couldn't fit that mold. The selfish part wanted to go back six months and just start over. He'd never give Wonshik a second glance.

                That was the easy route. That was the safe bet and his right mind reminded him that he could have continued living the lie had he not given Wonshik that second glance. But there was no coming back from enlightenment-- hindsight was evil in that way.

                Still old habits were hard to break. 

                "I'll come get my keyboard later."

                There was hope in Joonki's eyes at that so the younger man nodded when his boyfriend—ex boyfriend said see you later, then.

                It made Taekwoon feel like shit the rest of the day.

                To make things worse, Wonshik hadn't texted or called, telling him he had landed. He should have been there by now.

                "Taekwoonie, what's wrong?"

                "Nothing."

                "Stop that."

                Hakyeon was making dinner because Taekwoon had given up, resigning himself to watching his phone light up on the counter. It was a group chat between their friends and it was aggravating, his stomach jumping at each vibration. Wonshik should have landed in Canada by now.

                "Stop what?" he grumbled, seeing Jaehwan's name appear before Sanghyuk's.

                "Stop being all… crappy."

                Taekwoon reached out to cuff his friend but the other had hopped out of the way before it met. The younger man dipped his head back into the box in front of him and rummaged through the contents.

                It actually hadn't been as bad as he had imagined that morning, the dread of going through his belongings. Joonki had made it easier and packed for him—Taekwoon still didn’t know how to feel about that.

                Because as he moved aside some old pictures of them in high school, he felt his eyes start to blur. This wasn't just the end to their love—this was the end to their friendship. This was the end to everything Taekwoon had always wanted, to everything Taekwoon was sure he'd have for the rest of his life. Joonki was his forever.

                And it was all ending because he—

                "Hey babe!"

                Taekwoon peeked up, back stretching as he leaned to look at Hakyeon hovering over the kitchen sink. He had the brunette's phone in hand, smiling and the younger man narrowed his gaze.

                Suddenly, he heard Wonshik's chuckle, deep, and all of the muscles in his body relaxed and tightened at the same time. Then his eyes shot to Hakyeon who was giggling himself, not even paying attention to the brunette who had now stood.

                Reaching over, he snatched the phone out of the older man's clutch, pushing him with a glare. He turned his smoldering gaze to the phone where Wonshik sat on FaceTime, his goofy smile slowly falling. Taekwoon felt disarmed immediately.

                "Hi."

                Wonshik blinked. "Hi."

                Looking over his shoulder at Hakyeon, Taekwoon made sure to cut his eyes. The blonde on the phone chuckled.

                "Why are you looking at him like that?"

                Eyes shot down. "Did you get in ok?"

                There was a pointed expression that swept over the blonde's face but Wonshik nodded anyways, stretching a little bit and Taekwoon noticed the hotel room behind him. His yellow white hair was hidden behind a cap, which wasn't a surprise, although there was a little tuft sticking out the front. It was cute.

                Taekwoon missed him in front of him.

                "I was waiting for you to text. I got worried," the brunette muttered the last part, looking over to where Hakyeon was humming and finishing dinner. They had decided Taekwoon would stay with him for as long as he needed since the older man liked the company and the younger one didn't have much stuff to bring. Three fucking boxes over the span of what, four, five, ten years?

                "You left the night before," Wonshik said in a low voice, clearing his throat. Taekwoon's gaze matched back to his. "I didn't think you'd wait for me to check in."

                Something about the way Wonshik said it sounded off. Almost… biting?

                "Look… I just got." Taekwoon stopped and moved from his spot, starting towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He saw Wonshik start to smirk and blushed as he sank to lean against the cabinets under the sink. "Hakyeon is nosy," he explained easily.

                "It's ok, Taekwoon. You don't have to explain. I know your situation is… what it is." Wonshik bit on his lip as his eyes moved away, his brow knitting in thought. "It's just I don't really get you. Like, I don't know what you want from me."

                Was that why he had said he wanted to be friends? Was he trying to get the jump on Taekwoon before he could say it himself? Did that matter to someone like Wonshik?

                "I think I'm breaking up with my boyfriend."

                The blonde's eyes widened comically but Taekwoon couldn't smile because that statement hurt—it hurt more than seeing Joonki finally admit they needed some time apart.

                Blinking, Taekwoon remembered they were video chatting and tried to clear his eyes.

                "Was it because—"

                "No... not completely," Taekwoon mumbled, looking away. Closing his eyes, he wished Wonshik had just texted him.

                "Well," the younger man began and Taekwoon peeked. Wonshik was staring right into the screen, right at the camera and it felt like he was staring him in the eyes. A chill ran up his thighs to his spine.

                "Yeah."

                "So… what _do_ you want from me?"

                Funny, watching Wonshik's earnest face, hearing him ask that question felt easier to answer this time.

                "Just you."

                Wonshik didn't react at first but then the blonde's lips started to curl. "I commend you in remembering the one rule in our friendship."

                This time, Taekwoon avoided the screen but felt his cheeks fire at the silkiness of the other's tone. It sounded like Wonshik again. "I didn't know we had rules."

                The younger man's laugh could make a rainy day enjoyable and Taekwoon felt his shoulders drop comfortably as he leaned against the wood behind him.

                "If I ever ask you how you feel about me, you'd be honest."

                "That wasn’t what you asked."

                "Don't be smart," the blonde quipped, now partially smiling and he slouched in the hotel chair more. "It's nice to see your face."

                "I'm sorry I didn't stay."

                They continued to talk, the younger man finally getting to tell of the good news he had received and after a while, Hakyeon knocked on the door, saying that he had to pee. Wonshik added he should get some sleep, anyways—it was a little after two in the morning in Vancouver.

                "Well… congratulations on the rematch. I'm proud of you," Taekwoon said softly, knowing he'd be too shy to say it in person. Even so, having Wonshik smile into the camera had the older man's cheeks flushing and he looked away, biting his lip.

                "Yeah, well… we'll see what happens. It's about to be a crazy year, I can say that much."

                For some reason, that rang funny in his ears but Taekwoon nodded, about to speak when another, more urgent, knock sounded out beside him.

                "I have to go." Then, "Call me tomorrow. When you're free." Taekwoon's eyes darted away. Wonshik raised an eyebrow but nodded. They didn't say goodbye, which was odd but fine.

                Despite the emotional turmoil Taekwoon had been swimming in the last couple of weeks, he realized the smile on his face was content. He'd take that.


	15. Fourteen

                There was something about Taekwoon.

                He made Wonshik feel pleased, even over FaceTime, watching as the older man hid his face halfway out the frame. When he finally met Wonshik's eyes and smiled shyly, it did _something_ to him.

                He just wasn't sure what that something was.

                The blonde also didn't know when it had started to turn into some degree different than just being attracted to the brunette. Because Taekwoon had just broken up with his boyfriend. Or were they _still_ breaking up? How did one go about having a break up after 15 years of friendship and four years of partnership?

                For some reason, Wonshik wanted to know why they broke up—other than Taekwoon had let Wonshik eat him just before they were rudely interrupted. A larger part didn't want to know at the same time, so he kept quiet, watching as Taekwoon fell out of the camera view again.

                "What are you doing?" Then he saw the brunette bend put the phone back, hearing footsteps fade. "Beautiful, where'd you go?" he said lowly, quietly and he heard the older man groan slightly.

                "Stop," Taekwoon warned, coming into view to give him a glare. The phone now moved with the older man as they made their way into the kitchen. Then back to the living room.

                He could see Hakyeon's couch in the background, knowing Taekwoon was leaning against it, and it gave Wonshik a little slice of relief.

                "When are you coming back?" the brunette asked plainly, jerking Wonshik from his thoughts.

                It was supposed to be Sunday, just a weekend trip, but that had passed and now Wonshik was aiming for Wednesday. Canada was treating him well, him and his team having gotten the chance to meet other fighters as well as visit one of the most successful training gyms in North America. It was why the trip had been extended and the next morning, he had a meeting with an athletic sponsor. Even though it was a lot cooler, the summer was still good to him.

                "Wednesday."

                "Wednesday?" Taekwoon mirrored but it was a little softer and Wonshik nodded.

                "I leave here at like 11 in the morning or something." Then his eyes raised to the ceiling. "And I think I get in at like four pm. Something like that."

                Taekwoon pursed his lips and Wonshik laughed.

                He didn't ask what was happening, how they had gone from talking once a month to somehow talking every single day. If it wasn't a nightly video chat session in the hotel, it was a phone call in a cab on the way to meetings or the gym. Wonshik sent pictures, Taekwoon sent angry faces—especially when the blonde would send snapshots of food.

                It was happening all too quickly and though Wonshik was enjoying himself, he knew it was not practical.

                "How are things with the boyfriend?"

                So he would say dumb shit like that. Anything to put this into perspective, to remind the two of them that this was a consequence rather than a decision. And if Wonshik said it, at least he'd be in control.

                The older man blinked at him stoically, then looked to the side. The silence thickened and became tight. It made Wonshik a little regretful. He didn't want to push Taekwoon away—he was the first real friend he had in a long time. But he didn't know what other way to stop… _this_ before it went too far too fast.

                Wanting Taekwoon was different than wanting to be with him.

                The blonde watched the other's profile, breathing through his nose as he stared at the soft cheeks and the dark eyes. His hair was starting to get longer and Wonshik inexplicably wanted it to be short again, like how it had been in the stairwell of that party.

                Back before things were complicated.

                "Are you going to meet me at the airport?" Wonshik asked suddenly, wanting to change the subject, to make it less heavy.

                Taekwoon looked back at that, shaking his head. Wonshik chuckled, the brunette ducking his head with a small grin of his own. When he straightened, he licked his lips, biting at the corner to quell his simper. Wonshik slowly lost his own.

                "Taekwoon," he warned lowly, hand easily traveling into his boxers.

                To complicate things more, the pair had also voyaged into this tug of war in their attraction. The last late night FaceTime call had both of them panting, hands wrapped around themselves before they shared an orgasm.

                "What?" Taekwoon asked softly, playing dumb and Wonshik narrowed his eyes, tilting the camera down. Proudly displayed, Wonshik's erection caused a small groan from the older man. "Oh."

                "Yeah, _oh_."

                Taekwoon bit his lip again, this time looking straight into the lens.

                "Meet me at the airport." Then, "Please."

 

*

 

                Taekwoon pulled at his fingers, picking at the side of his thumb that was calloused from the very movement. It was a nasty habit and he only really did it when he was nervous.

                Bringing it to his mouth, darting eyes watched the stairs that came up from the terminal.

                Wonshik would be walking up them any moment now.

                It had been a back and forth decision in his head, Taekwoon meeting Wonshik at the airport. For some reason, it felt like he was moving too quickly, giving in too quickly. Hakyeon's words rang in his mind.

                But he realized he had given in already. Like a spark to tinder, he caught the moment Wonshik had touched him.

                So Taekwoon accepted his inability to stay away and decided to stop thinking.

                Foot tapping, dark eyes looked up at the screen above him. Any moment now…

                People started to trickle forth, a couple families, more singles rushing to get their bags as the baggage claim conveyer's alarm sounded out behind him. A woman bumped into his shoulder but Taekwoon didn't notice. Not when he caught sight of the slender man walking his way, forearm and hand tattoos peeking out of his long sleeved shirt, shorts to his knees showing off the ink on his ankles. Taekwoon smiled when he recognized one of them, not sure why that mattered but for some reason… it did.

                Wonshik's head was down, a black hat shielding his eyes further. His phone was in hand and Taekwoon wondered what he was looking at. Was he getting ready to text someone? Was he trying to call _him_?

                That answer was no as the blonde finished tapping and raised the device to his ear, shouldering his duffel bag higher. Finally looking up, Taekwoon watched as Wonshik laughed into the phone, a pin dropping into the bottom of the brunette's stomach.

                Shit. Had he made a fool of himself?  Had he moved too hastily towards the other? Had he—

                Wonshik's legs stopped mid step, squinted eyes catching Taekwoon's, mouth falling open slightly. Then the corners curved, a couple words murmured before the phone came down from the blonde's face. His strides resumed and the older man felt his energy hit him before Wonshik actually did.

                There were hands at his cheeks and the next thing Taekwoon knew, there were lips on his, moving and it was a second or two in which he moved with them before the brunette realized Wonshik was kissing him.

                In public. He was kissing him in public.

                Wrenching his face away, Taekwoon's eyes dashed from side to side around them, noticing the one or two people staring. He then looked at the younger man who had a silly grin on his face, his eyes low. Feeling his own mouth spread, Taekwoon blushed.

                It didn't matter that there was alcohol on Wonshik's tongue. He had kissed him in front of people.

                "You," the brunette whispered, wrapping his arms around Wonshik's shoulders, feeling the heat beneath them. Hands fell from his cheeks and arms came around his waist. Wonshik's smell invaded his nose and Taekwoon couldn't remember the last time he had inhaled something so _good_. It raised him on his toes before he recognized the unintentional movement.

                If the older man had been waiting for something, this was it.

                If Taekwoon had been waiting for something to change his mind, this was it. This unsuspecting action that was neither planned nor purposeful turned out to be the catalyst that registered the end of one and the beginning of another.

                He had missed Wonshik and in the moment of seeing him after almost six days, walking towards him like he had missed Taekwoon too, he didn't think of anything else. Only the jubilation swimming in his belly, the soft pain curling in his chest.

                "Can we go?"

                That was Wonshik and when Taekwoon pulled back, ignoring the others around them now openly staring, he realized how wrong he had been. Waiting for Wonshik to make it easy to leave Joonki once and for all was stupid.

                Naively, Taekwoon had expected the moment they had kissed that first night would be magical, an overflowing of emotion because the brunette had wanted him for _so_ long, he had wanted this for _so_ long.

                But it hadn't been, instead it had been a culmination of longing and lust, a quick meeting of their lips because Taekwoon wanted Wonshik inside him. It had been a dragging of their hands and arms and bodies and it had satisfied another part of the brunette.

                He wasn't going to find his reason to leave in that kiss.

                Because he'd find it here. In the honest grip and genuine eyes of Wonshik. It was only fitting that it was also the first time Taekwoon had ever kissed someone in public. Frightening and exciting, when Wonshik's hand cradled his face again, the older man felt his chest twist uncomfortably in anticipation.

                Their mouths molded together again and Taekwoon couldn't help himself as his hands clutched large shoulders, moaning when they parted. Pulling away, the brunette looked into the blonde's hidden eyes, the pair low and slightly drunk.

                "Come on, let's go."

 

*

 

                Finally, there was nothing in their way. No distractions, no second guessing, no excuses.

                When they made it through the door of Wonshik's apartment, their mouths met and didn't separate, hands immediately finding the hems of shirts and pants. They entered the bedroom just as the last stitch of fabric was dropped.

                Wonshik picked Taekwoon up easily, gently laying him on the unmade bed. It registered in the back of his brain the difference—Wonshik always made his bed. If he didn't, his already disorganized brain would settle into chaos comfortably and his hard work at keeping himself on schedule would crumble.

                He couldn't remember the last time he made his bed.

                It was before Taekwoon, wasn't it?

                There was a tongue at the tattoo beneath his right ear and it felt like it was tracing the letters. Perhaps he was—although, that could be the alcohol Wonshik had ingested to get through the 12 hour flight. Never the less, Wonshik's mind short circuited at the thought and he ground his hips into Taekwoon's in response.

                Lifting himself slightly, his hands stationed him above the brunette, eyes running over the naked man beneath him. His long body was lean and proportioned perfectly, his dips were shadowed while the relaxed muscle boasted peaks. Taekwoon was breathing from his mouth, fingers smoothing over Wonshik's shoulders just to touch anything, everything. He felt their tips press into his skin as he watched.

                Leaning down, he moved his lips across Taekwoon's softly, letting his tongue dip against the pair briefly. He pulled back before the older man could capture them again.

                Blinking, he memorized the picture. He wanted to keep this image in mind.

                Who knew the next time he'd have Taekwoon wanting only him?

                Wonshik left and returned, spreading Taekwoon's legs as he climbed back over him. Knees digging into the mattress, he raised the brunette's thighs before pushing himself forward. He started to press into the older man's body when a soft voice stopped him.

                "Go slow."

                Squeezing his eyes closed, Wonshik let his head fall to Taekwoon's, letting out a breath as he gingerly entered the brunette, his mouth falling open as he forced his hips not to piston forward.

                It was hot and tight and it had his belly firing on all cylinders. _Finally_ was the only word painted along the walls of his mind, body trembling with restraint.

 

*

 

                Taekwoon arched slightly as he felt Wonshik's thighs burn against his ass, his fingers digging into the blonde's neck. It felt amazing, despite the slight stretch. It was not new, this sensation of yearning separating in his veins like oil. It pumped blindly, pulsing as he felt Wonshik's cock completely inside of him.

                The difference was the satisfaction, the brink of almost now being a reality and there was a reason they had waited, a reason the universe had made them wait. Because as Wonshik pulled all the way out then pushed all the way in, Taekwoon suddenly got goosebumps and his eyes rolled slightly.

                The blonde's muscles were quivering beneath his skin and his movements were wrapped in control, a tempo slower than he desired.

                Wonshik wanted to fuck him but was respecting the older man's wishes. He was going slow because Taekwoon wanted him to.

                The brunette brought their mouths together, a mashing of lips, as he raised his legs even higher as invitation for the other to press deeper. He wanted to feel Wonshik so wholly that he wouldn't be able to know where one ended and the other began. Suddenly, he wanted Wonshik to fuck him like he was going to fuck him the other night.

                The blonde answered as he pressed him into the mattress, hips starting their rhythm. Taekwoon moaned outright, starting to swivel his own waist, much to Wonshik's delight, his head pulling back, eyes searching for permission.

                Taekwoon bit the corner of his mouth, nodding.

                Wonshik sank into the brunette's body heavily, swiftly—so swiftly that it trapped a noise in the older man's throat. He had wanted to scream but it was swallowed by the balloon of ecstasy that filled with each thrust, the sounds in the room muffled as if they were underwater.

                The pressure dropped and for one sanctified moment, Taekwoon had déjà vu in the form of a memory. That night in the cab where they had seen each other and the atmosphere around them reacted.

                It had answered to the two of them and if that didn't mean something.

                Wonshik kissed Taekwoon sloppily, his body driving into the brunette's without regard, sweat pouring from their skin as they slid against each other. It was a tangle of the two of them and when Taekwoon started feeling his abs start to clench, his ass doing the same, he closed his eyes, pushing Wonshik away from him. The blonde settled on his hands but didn't stop pumping, his haggard breaths fanning out over their bodies.

                "Make me come," Taekwoon panted, reaching up to hold on to his shoulders. Their eyes caught each other.

                There was a growl, so animalistic it could have pushed him over the edge alone, but it was just a precursor as Wonshik abruptly slowed. His hips swirled as he lazily pushed forward and languidly pulled back. His hands bore most of his weight and out of the corner of hooded eyes, Taekwoon could see the younger man's fingers digging into the sheets.

                It made the slow, almost painful, pleasure that much more agonizing. It was drawing the blood from his veins as the glass of his eyes shivered in the absence of Wonshik's warmth, the younger man's cock pulling out of him with a soft sound. Their gazes met, Taekwoon's dick leaking onto the taut skin beneath his belly button. Wonshik pressed the head of his into him.

                Taekwoon's eyes narrowed as Wonshik pushed back inside, inch by excruciating inch.

                The very moment Wonshik filled him again, Taekwoon's body trembled of its own accord, his face screwing up as his back hunched forward. He felt his body separate and it had been so long since he had felt this way, coming all over his stomach. His hips lifted as he milked the sensation, the look on Wonshik's making Taekwoon want to come all over again. It was a beautifully gratifying moment, his body weightless before slamming back down.

                Wonshik pressed forward impossibly, hard and rough. Then he pulled out and ripped the condom off, giving himself a quick stroke or two, releasing onto Taekwoon's stomach as well, his groans deep and grinding as he pumped into his hand weakly, a small mewl leaving his lips as his thighs quaked.

                The younger man fell to the bed, rolling off to the side as he threw an arm over his eyes. Taekwoon watched as his own chest heaved, their overheated bodies relishing in the air conditioning that kicked on, rumbling around them as sound returned to the room.

                Taekwoon's cock twitched in satisfaction, limp against his hip bone.

                For the first time ever, there weren’t needy arms around him, holding him like he was going to slip away in the middle of the night. Tight and restrictive, they seemed controlling—at least in hindsight.

                The pressure returned to normal and the deep breaths coming from his chest quieted.

                "Well…" Wonshik started, low voice deep with timbre. He removed his arm and rolled his head toward Taekwoon, letting his hand find the other's jutting hip bone. His ghost of a grin was painted with contentment. "There's no going back now, huh?"


	16. Fifteen

                Taekwoon sank down onto Wonshik's cock, the younger man's fingers biting into his hips. Head thrown back, the blonde could feel his hair fall away from his scalp and it almost felt as good as the sensation of the brunette wrapped around him.

                "Taek," Wonshik moaned, lips parting as he felt the older man bite at the tattoo along his neck. The brunette liked that one—oh how he liked that one. The feeling of teeth in Wonshik's skin was driving him further up, hips snapping into Taekwoon when he couldn't take the feeling any longer.

                They had been eating dessert as dinner and the sugar on Taekwoon's tongue had been heavenly. It all escalated so quickly.

                Wonshik's fingers traced the bumps of Taekwoon's spine, knowing there were letters etched into him making the blonde that much more lifted. He wanted to taste those letters. He wanted to know what they felt like against the flat of his tongue… again.

                Wonshik came off the notion and Taekwoon wasn't far after, the blonde's hands curled around him swift and effective. The curve of the brunette's body as he screamed was perfection.

                Slumping into each other, Wonshik kissed the older man's sideburn, tasting the salt of his sweat. It was delicious as it mixed with the sweet on his tongue. He could feel the room heating up again and he forced himself to calm down.

                Taekwoon was perceptive and slowly pulled from him to lift off the blonde. Their bodies moved tentatively and as Wonshik pulled up his sweatpants, he reached over for his shirt, wiping off the brunette's chest.

                "We need to take it easy," Taekwoon spoke softly, pulling on his own shirt that had been tossed aside earlier in the day. Wonshik caught his arms, drawing him closer.

                "We do," he said, leaning up to capture the brunette's lips in a simple kiss. Taekwoon melted back into his lap. "Later."

 

*

 

                Later was the next morning, when Wonshik woke up with a splitting headache and sore thighs. His hamstrings felt as if he had endured one of Jae's marathon training sessions.

                Hearing a slight noise, someone breathing heavily through their nose, Wonshik saw the reason for his discomfort. Taekwoon was peacefully still asleep and oddly, when the light snapped on at 4:15 am, the older man didn't wake up to the visual alarm. But it reminded Wonshik that no matter how amazing the last day and night had been, it was always time to get back to work.

                Kyungmin had told him that they didn't have time for Wonshik to be jet lagged. His next fight was in a month and because of his fight to St. Francois—and the fact that the other had tested positive for PEDs—Wonshik had deeper billing. He would go right before the main bout which was huge.

                This morning though, despite his thoughts on how Jae would kill him if he didn't make his early am run, Wonshik just watched Taekwoon sleep.

                Then fell asleep himself.

                Wonshik woke up later to the smell of food—what kind he couldn't discern but it smelled a lot more appetizing than his normal smoothie.

                Eyes wandered over the bed and found Taekwoon missing, the sheets pushed up against his own side and Wonshik moaned, closing his eyes. The extra bit of sleep had at least helped his head.

                Trudging from the bed, he looked around, seeing their clothes on the floor, his bag sitting, unopened, by the door. No wonder his mouth tasted like death, he hadn't even gotten his toothbrush out yet. That and the alcohol that now sat uncomfortably at the back of his throat and in the pit of his stomach.

                "You're up."

                Taekwoon was a pleasant sight, especially in Wonshik's sweatpants that fit him perfectly.

                "That's debatable," he groaned then squinted slowly behind his black rimmed glasses. Taekwoon had made breakfast: an egg white and spinach omelet with a smoothie. "How did you—"

                "I figure you probably like to eat right."

                An unknown stirring twisted in Wonshik's belly so he nodded and went to brush his teeth. When he came back, Taekwoon was seated and their food was portioned out on plates.

                "Are you always this accommodating the morning after?" Wonshik had meant it teasingly but the older man's brow furrowed and he turned away.

                Then his brown eyes caught the younger man's. "You… you kissed me, yesterday."

                There was a moment of misunderstanding, Wonshik's mind trying to think of all the times they kissed.

                "At the airport."

                The blonde's face slowly melted and he put the food down, bringing a hand to his head. How could he forget that?

                "Aren't you scared of what people will say if they find out?"

                There was such concern that it almost felt wrong to think it was comical.

                Wonshik chuckled anyway, scrubbing a hand over his tired face and through his undoubtedly wild hair. "I don't care."

                Taekwoon dropped his chopsticks. " _What?_ "

                Shrugging his shoulder, Wonshik finally took a bite and raised his eyes to Taekwoon who still looked insanely attractive first thing in the morning. "What's the worst that could happen?"

                "Your career! If you… No one would want to—"

                "True," Wonshik said in reply, deep voice a little more authoritative. "But then, eventually, someone will be hungry enough to fight to actually do it and I'll fuck his shit up just like I do everyone else. Gay or not, I'm a hard fight."

                Taekwoon was staring at him, mouth slightly ajar. Blinking owlishly, his face caught the sun. Gorgeous.

                "I shouldn't have kissed you—I wouldn't have if I hadn't been drinking, honestly. I mean I'm not the type to broadcast it," Wonshik explained. "But I enjoy fucking guys and it's unrealistic to think I can go my whole career not getting caught.

                "Trust me, I love fighting. But I can't hide who I am—that takes too much of my energy." Then, "Are you in the closet or something?"

                It was instantaneous--the food forgotten, their mouths meeting instead. Wonshik was glad he had brushed his teeth.

                They eventually made it to the floor and even though he could hear Jae in his head, berating him for missing his early morning run, Taekwoon convinced Wonshik it was better to stay with him instead.

               

*

 

                "Well well well."

                Taekwoon laughed, not even trying to hide his simper or crumpled clothes. Hakyeon's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open.

                "Shut up," the brunette murmured as he moved to go towards the bedroom. He had finally relented and allowed Wonshik to head to the gym. But not before a salacious kiss goodbye.

                Taekwoon felt his lips quirk.

                "Oh my god, you did not!"

                Opening the door, Taekwoon smiled to himself. Yes, yes he did.


	17. Sixteen

                "That’s not a zucchini."

                Brown eyes looked up, watching as Taekwoon's feline pair searched the produce in front of him to find what he was looking for. His face didn't change as he reached out and grabbed a hold of a green vegetable, much like the yellow one in Wonshik's hand. He held it up.

                "That's basically the same thing!"

                Pretty lips curled slightly and Wonshik placed the food back, following the older man as they moved to the next bin.

                A hand slid down his arm and it was enough to cause the blonde to look around him before pushing his chest along the other's shoulder. Taekwoon was smiling now, a pink rouge on his cheeks.

                "We're so immature," he muttered, but when he looked back, his eyes squinted with his delight.

                They had been at this for a month now and Wonshik was still holding his breath, waiting for reality to set in.

                Tonight was a special one and Taekwoon had insisted that he cook a meal fitting for it. Wonshik would need something to want to come back to, the brunette had murmured against his lips. As if the older man wasn't reason enough.

                But Wonshik certainly wasn't going to turn down the invitation of food. So he allowed Taekwoon to cook him a meal the night before he left to Australia for two weeks.

                Fingers brushed against the brunette's side as he stepped beside him, curious as to what he was inspecting now.

                Mushrooms.

                Smiling, Wonshik let his hand fall away and instead tangled into his blonde locks. He was playing with the idea of dying it but he couldn't settle on a color and plus, Taekwoon liked it.

                "Do you like tofu?"

                Wonshik nodded. He ate plenty of it as a source of protein that he had developed enough of a liking towards it. He started his way down the bread aisle. He couldn't have any—not this close to a fight. But he liked to test his will power every now and then.

                "Wonshik."

                Turning, the blonde raised his eyebrows in answer. Taekwoon smiled attractively.

                "You ready?"

                It had been a month of spending time together, of learning each other inside and out. It had been a month of friends becoming more. While it was new and exciting, it also had its days where their insecurities buried them alive.

                Those days were made worth it when Taekwoon looked at him like he was actually happy, like he was now.

                "Yeah, let me just get one thing."

                "Ok," the brunette began, turning towards the line. "I'll meet you—"

                "No, just wait there."

                Taekwoon rolled his eyes but didn't move. Wonshik grinned and started down the aisle, eyes picking at each bread basket. He knew there would be one around—he had seen some the other day.

                Finding what he was searching for, he grabbed it and put it in a small paper bag. He then started back towards the produce section, seeing Taekwoon still by the cabbage. His smile grew.

                "You didn't even get anything," the older man nagged then stopped as he saw the hand hidden behind Wonshik's back.

                "You can't have it until we leave."

                "Is it nasty?"

                Wonshik's brow furrowed. "Why would I get you something nasty?"

                Shrugging his shoulders, Taekwoon tried to peek but Wonshik shouldered him away.

                "Ok, come on. Let's go."

                They made their way through the line, the brunette trying to guess what Wonshik had gotten him. By the time they were ringing up their purchases, Taekwoon had a hard edge to his glance and he was losing his temper.

                Placing the bag on the counter, the cashier opened it to see what was in there. Her eyes softened slightly and she looked at the two of them. Then she typed something in, handing it back to Wonshik. Taekwoon's hands intercepted it and he gave her an apologetic bow. He glared at Wonshik though his lips were curving on their own accord.

                Reaching in, he brought out the coveted item: a cute bear shaped pastry. Head falling forward, Taekwoon just stood there as Wonshik paid, grabbing at least two bags. The older man scooped up the remaining groceries, not daring to look up until they were outside.

                His blush was gorgeous and when he looked at Wonshik, it was endearing.

                "You are so corny."

                Wonshik's jaw dropped dramatically, though his eyes shone with amusement. "I wanted to treat you."

                "Ah yes, such a treat," Taekwoon mumbled, taking a bite none the less. Then he held out an ear for the blonde who easily took a large chunk out as well.

                "I can't help but spoil you." The pair started walking down the street towards the train. Dark eyes slid over, winking slightly as they caught Taekwoon's. "How else could I show you how much I care?"

                Revealing his teeth in a laugh, the brunette brought a hand to his full mouth.

                As the two smiled at each other, another pair of eyes followed along. Coming from just beyond the grocery store entrance, a man stared at their retreating figures. At the arms that brushed too often to be coincidental. At the hand that stayed upon the small of a back too long to be unintentional.

                Joonki swallowed the knot in his throat as he watched Taekwoon walk off with Kim Wonshik.

                Then the pain turned into gasoline and the fire in his chest ignited, his legs moving him forward, their path becoming his.

 

*

 

                "I shouldn't have eaten three," Wonshik moaned, patting his stomach. It was full, almost uncomfortable and when Taekwoon passed by him, he pushed on it. "Ow!"

                Laughing, the brunette sent him an unapologetic face. Wonshik just joined in, sprawling out on the couch. Taekwoon put the dishes in the sink but didn't clean up immediately. Instead, he walked back to the blonde, climbing over the couch to lay along the younger man.

                Humming in appreciation, Wonshik's arms came around his shoulders, one delving into his hair and the other running along his spine.

                "I'm not ready for you to leave," Taekwoon murmured, teeth nipping at the other's bottom lip. Wonshik leaned up and captured his lips, moving against them as he smoothed his hand down to the brunette's ass.

                "Two weeks is too long, huh?" he asked, pulling away a moment. His eyes danced between Taekwoon's, watching as the other tried to hide his face. Fingers tightening in the older man's hair, Wonshik wouldn't let him look away.

                "Too long."

                Their mouths met again and this time Taekwoon touched the blonde's tongue with a teasing trace. Hands gripped on to Wonshik's body as they sank into the furniture, bodies pressing into curves and edges. They had been so connected that everything was heightened—emotions included.

                But that was the exciting part of it. Taekwoon felt like a schoolboy giving a summer goodbye to his first love.

                He couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this.

                And with each slip of a palm and grip of fingers, he felt himself falling into this trap they had both built. When he felt Wonshik's erection against his thigh, Taekwoon smiled.

                "No," the blonde warned.

                Not before a fight, he had instructed the brunette. Which was so funny because Joonki was so needy with sex, it was like that was the way in which he could express himself. In hindsight, it was the way he kept Taekwoon close—both physically and figuratively.

                Wonshik was different. Sex was pleasure and he was very aware of what it meant and when.

                Cold fingers slipped into the blonde's jeans, the younger man recoiling from the touch.

                Taekwoon was different, too. Wonshik made him want to feel everything. Some days, there were times where all the brunette could think of was touching him. And when Wonshik would get home from the gym, sweaty and exhausted, he'd sigh under Taekwoon's slow kiss, allowing himself to be lead to the bedroom.

                He hardly ever told Taekwoon no.

                Palming Wonshik's dick through his boxers, the brunette hummed into his ear, tongue peeking out to follow the shell of his ear.

                "You won't have to do anything," Taekwoon whispered, feeling wicked and seductive. He pulled away and caught Wonshik's gaze, the pair smoldering in their want.

                "Taek," he groaned, closing his eyes when the older man started moving down the couch. Nimble fingers unbuttoned his jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper. It was quiet before the heavy moan above him filtered through the air.

                Wonshik made Taekwoon feel wanted.

                Swallowing against Wonshik's cock, closing his eyes as he felt the silk of his skin against his tongue, Taekwoon moaned himself. The blonde trembled in reply.

                It only took a couple minutes before Wonshik was panting, his lower belly spasming as his thighs shook. His hands were above him, curling into the leather of the couch arm, hips pumping on their own.

                Taekwoon put a staying hand to keep them still, letting his lips drag up the length as he pulled away. Wonshik looked down, eyes narrowed with concentration.

                The brunette's mouth curved, teeth biting at his bottom lip.

                "Shit," Wonshik cursed, drawing out the word as Taekwoon's tongue swirled around his head, sucking lewdly as the younger man came.

                The sounds of an ambulance masked the heavy breathing but the older man still enjoyed the sounds as Wonshik came back down. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he placed himself along the blonde once more, this time settling his face into the other's neck. He smelled so good.

                Arms came around his shoulders once more. "You are too good to me."

                Taekwoon reached under the blonde's shirt, holding his sides as they laid together. "No," he mumbled.

                "I've never been treated to a home cooked meal and then given head. You certainly know the way to a man's heart."

                One side of his mouth quirking up slightly, Taekwoon looked up to Wonshik's closed eyes.

                "Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Make each other feel good?"

                Wonshik opened his eyes and looked down, sated but a little serious. "Happy."

                "Hm?"

                "We're supposed to make each other happy, yes."

                Shy eyes fell and Taekwoon inhaled deeply. "You make me happy."

                Wonshik's chuckle reverberated through his chest. "You make me happy, too."

                "I feel like you're leaving forever or something," the brunette admitted.

                "I don't know why. I'm coming back, you know," Wonshik said softly, bringing a hand to Taekwoon's back. "What does 'the space between' mean?"

                There were a couple taps against the window behind them but Taekwoon couldn't care enough to look. A couple more and finally they both registered the rain that had begun.

                "It’s the space between you and I."

                Wonshik's languid body tightened and laughing slightly, Taekwoon shifted so he settled in between the blonde's legs.

                "Or the couch and you. Or me and my shirt. It's this idea that we're not ever really touching anything, you know? That theres always this layer between." Suddenly blushing, Taekwoon shrugged. "I was like 20 when I got it. I liked the way it sounded, the way it felt… thought I was being sophisticated."

                "It sounds sad."

                Lifting his head again, the brunette's brow furrowed. "Sad?"

                "Yeah, I mean… if we're never actually touching, then what are we feeling?" Arms tightening, Wonshik pulled him closer.

                Taekwoon sighed and settled back into the embrace. "Perhaps I wanted that space back then."

                The rain pelted the glass and it started lull them to sleep. It had been a long day.

                They had spent every minute together knowing the next two weeks would be spent apart. While Wonshik had been steady in his training, he always made time for Taekwoon and when the blonde told him he'd be going to Australia for two weeks, something deflated in the brunette's chest.

                He didn't know why but this felt like it meant something.

                Taekwoon's phone ringing woke them a half hour later, the brunette squinting at the coffee table. Grumbling, he pressed an absentminded kiss to Wonshik's neck and then pressed himself up, reaching over for the device. Hakyeon knew he was spending the night with Wonshik so he didn't expect it to be him.

                He hadn't expected Joonki's name to appear, though.

                Eyes widened quickly as he stared at the screen.

                Taekwoon hadn't spoken to Joonki in over a month, since he had picked up his keyboard.

                The screen went black and then registered the missed call. Shoulders fell.

                Immediately the phone started ringing in his palm and this time, Taekwoon pressed the red decline button.

                He didn't like the butterflies he got from seeing his name.

                Suddenly there was a loud vibrating from the kitchen counter, the plastic on the granite echoing throughout the room. Wonshik blinked awake as both registered his phone ringing. Taekwoon took a loud gulp.

                "Who's calling?" the blonde mumbled, stretching slightly, focusing on the man above him.

                "I don't know."

                Taekwoon's phone started ringing in his hand again and both looked to it.

                Standing, Taekwoon moved towards the kitchen. He peered over the counter to see the number. It was the concierge.

                "Answer it," Wonshik said, his voice muffled as if he had already curled into the couch again. But Taekwoon didn't want to. He knew it was connected—didn't know how, just knew it was.

                "It's just your concierge—"

                A shrill ringing played throughout the room and Wonshik moaned louder this time. Taekwoon just looked at the intercom next to the front door, the red light blinking.

                "Someone's downstairs," the grumpy blonde spoke, rolling from the couch to his phone. The brunette watched frozen, nerves trembling. But watching Wonshik, still muted from sleep, something got Taekwoon to move.

                Swiping the green button on his phone, he finally answered.

                "Yes?"

                "Come downstairs. Now."


	18. Seventeen

                The silence was eerie the moment the ringing finally stopped and Wonshik looked over to Taekwoon who was stock still. Then mumbled a faint _ok_.

                "Who's downstairs?" the blonde asked, though he wasn't as groggy as before, now just watching the other's features to give any clue as to what was going on. He could feel the unease emanating from the brunette's body. They had just had an amazing day together-- what had happened? Taekwoon's brow furrowed then his eyes raised to meet Wonshik's.

                "My ex," he replied quietly.

                "Your what?"

                It would have been funny but no one was there to laugh. Instead, Wonshik just watched as Taekwoon's eyes dropped to the phone in his hand. There was a slice of jealousy followed by a much deeper sense of protectiveness. How did Taekwoon's ex-boyfriend know where he lived?

                And what did he want with Taekwoon?

                Awake now, Wonshik followed the brunette with his eyes as the older man walked to the window, peering down. Then he ran a hand through his hair, looking back to the phone.

                Another emotion crept forward, settling on the periphery to taunt.

                Envy.

                Taekwoon had spent the past month with _him_. He hadn't mentioned his ex-boyfriend once, even when Wonshik tried to open up the door to it because he thought it weird that it was just… over between them. But it wasn't just over was it? There were so many things that had happened, weren't there?

                It just _felt_ like the time flew.

                "I'll be right back, ok?"

                Wonshik shook his head slightly, trying to come back to00 the present quicker, his own brow wrinkling as he saw Taekwoon start towards the door.

                "20 minutes," the blonde said lowly, watching the brunette's steps stall. Taekwoon looked back in guilt, but then he nodded.

                "Promise," he responded and there were inklings in those brown eyes that gave Wonshik a sense of faith, a whispered sentiment that said not to give up on the older man just yet.

                As soon as the door closed, their reality settled deep in his stomach, turning into a knot as he checked his watch. 15 minutes and he was going down there.

 

*

 

                Walking out of the elevator shaft, Taekwoon took a deep breath through his nose. There were nerves vibrating in his stomach and it wasn't fair—

                Not to Wonshik. Not to Joonki.

                This had to end, once and for all.

                As soon as he turned out of the lift, he saw the spread of Joonki's back, his long legs set apart slightly. The night concierge was watching him; Joonki was watching the rain.

                Taekwoon swallowed against the apprehension thick in his throat, legs forcing him closer though he stumbled a step and it was when he was only a few paces away that Joonki looked over his shoulder. The brunette stalled.

                A memory looked back at him. It was the moment when they were both 18, under Joonki's covers after a long night of drinking. Joonki had urged, Taekwoon had followed and when they woke up with hangovers, they were wrapped around each other, limbs tangled. Their morning woods crushed together and it was the first time there was a possibility. The first time there was hope in Taekwoon.

                Tonight, Joonki wore that look. But only for a second.

                Immediately, his face contorted in anger and the larger man came close quickly, teeth grinding as he pointed behind Taekwoon, towards the elevators.

                "What the _fuck_ is this?"

                Taken aback, Taekwoon's eyes darted over to the staff who tried to look away fast enough, narrowing his eyes when he returned his gaze to his ex-boyfriend. Putting a hand to the older man's chest, he gently pushed him back and out of his face. Then he pursed his lips.

                "Outside," he instructed, willing his voice to raise.

                "It's rain—"

                "Outside, Joonki."

                Taekwoon started out of the building, the rain thundering down around them but he was not about to argue with Joonki in front of Wonshik's building staff. The blonde didn't need to be embarrassed by their dysfunction.

                Immediately, a grip twisted in Taekwoon's chest at the thought of the younger man and how he hadn't asked for any of this.

                Shoulders bunching as he felt the droplets pelt his head and back, he waited for Joonki to come out. The older man frowned as he tested it with his arm, watching the droplets litter his tilted wrist immediately before settling in front of Taekwoon. His eyes had since softened, slanting even when he saw the brunette. His hand reached out again, this time his thumb swiping over the rain on the swell of Taekwoon's cheeks.

                "Stop it," the younger man muttered easily, gently swiping at the hand on his face. His eyes dropped, his skin erupting in discomfort. He didn't need to see Joonki to know his jaw was flexing.

                "What do you want me to do?" he implored, putting a hand underneath Taekwoon's chin to lift his head. Taekwoon steeled him with his gaze.

                "I thought we were moving on."

                "Like you have?"

                Biting his lip, the brunette looked away, crossing his arms and grabbing at his elbows as the rain soaked them.

                "I think I moved on a while ago," he confessed, hating how right that sounded. "I think I was holding out because I didn't want to know what was on the other side—"

                "Bullshit."

                The older man was shaking his head, droplets flying from the tips of his black hair. His mouth was set in a frown and it trembled slightly as he continued to protest.

                "Joon—"

                "No, that's bullshit. You feel like you're over it but you're not. I know you, Taekwoon. I know you better than anyone else on this Earth—"

                Joonki paused, mid-sentence and mid thought, his gaze suddenly on Taekwoon. The brunette felt his eyes flood with tears. This is what he had feared: the moment when Joonki reminded Taekwoon the two had been written for years now and it wouldn't be so easy to leave, would it?

                The moment when Taekwoon would get scared.

                "You think he knows you like I do?"

                "You don't know him—"

                "Do you think," Joonki repeated louder, taking a step closer, their chests bumping slightly. Taekwoon didn't step back. "Do you think Kim Wonshik knows you?"

                Hiccupping slightly, the younger man finally tried to put some space between them but Joonki grabbed his shoulders.

                "Answer me," he commanded with a growl.

                Body impulsively jerking, Taekwoon's eyes found Joonki's. "Let go."

                "Taekwoon, listen to me—"

                "I said, let go of me right now." Shaking hands that held him off, Taekwoon put two palms on Joonki's chest and shoved him away. "Don't you ever grab me like that again."

                It was the tipping point as Joonki's feet stumbled and immediately, the older man balled his fist, looking like he wanted to hit Taekwoon. The brunette raised a single eyebrow.

                "I did what you wanted! I gave you a month. I gave you the fucking space. What more do you want from me?"

                "What I wanted? I didn't ask you to do any of those things!" Taekwoon cried, finally throwing his arms up in exasperation.

                Joonki was shaking now, his voice trembling with unshed tears. "Taekwoon, I know you want us to work—I'm not crazy! I'm out here in the pouring rain because you should be with me! You can't just throw away all these years for what? For _him_?"

                The taller man didn't wait for an answer as he continued. "Stop this shit, ok? Stop acting like he is what you want—"

                "I'm not acting—"

               "Yes, you are! Like some fucking groupie. And don't you see? Don't you see right in front of you is someone who is willing to forgive you for yet another infidelity? Who does that, Taekwoon? He wouldn't do that for you. So stop acting like you don't know where you belong and let's go home."

                The rain went silent, though Taekwoon could see it was still coming down. It was muted, as if underwater and blinking, the brunette struggled to open his lungs and take a breath.

                Those words were razor sharp and there was a precision slice into his gut, a feeling that if he moved the wound would open and his insides would fall out at his feet. It was real, it was raw, it was the moment he never thought would come.

                Heavy lids lowering, Taekwoon felt the resentment start to roil, felt all he had held back for so long start to swell within him and when he finally opened his eyes, his lips parted from the pressure.

                "Are you _kidding_ me?"

                Joonki looked ready to respond when he was cut off by the energy change, the shift in the air around them as the rain beat down. The older man's eyes frantically searched for light in Taekwoon's eyes but there was none, all that remained was fury.

                "Joonki, my entire life has been about _you_. Every fucking day since we were 10 years old has been about Choi Joonki! This spoiled brat who only thinks about himself, who doesn't consider anyone else's feelings and you have the audacity to say that to me?"

                Taekwoon was burning up, he could feel his body flushing and along with the rain, felt his back prickle with sweat.

                "I gave up so much for you—happily, I made my life yours. I followed you to school, I moved away from my family so you could have a chance at your dream. I stayed in every single night to be with you when you started fighting because you needed me. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Do you know," he emphasized, taking a step closer. Joonki took a step back. "How stupid I feel?

                And I fucked up. I fucked up twice but doesn't that say something? Doesn't that fucking say something?!" Suddenly deflating, energy expended, Taekwoon's lip quivered as his eyes fought to stay open. A numbing sensation slowly draped his body in stillness. "Joonki, we should have ended it years ago."

                "No!" the older man screamed, startling Taekwoon but not enough to make him flinch. He didn't want Joonki to realize how agonizing this was—how absolutely livid this was making him.

                "Yes—"

                "God dammit, I said no!"

                Now, the cool white tone of Joonki's cheeks turned hot red, his body trembling again and for a second Taekwoon had forgotten who he was dealing with. Naively, he had thought his ex-boyfriend would understand.

                But this was Choi Joonki, the man who didn't think anything of the sacrifices Taekwoon made. This was the child who couldn't figure out what he wanted to do with his life, who needed the reassurance from others to feel like he was doing the right thing.

                The boy Taekwoon had fallen in love with at 16 was staring back at him, still not having grown up.

                "Joon," he whispered, throat aching like there were tears though none pressed forward. "It's over."

                "The fuck it is! Taekwoon—"

                "It's. Over."

                Taekwoon exhaled shakily, mercy in his eyes but little else. They stayed silent until he couldn't stand it anymore. His back straightened and he gave one last look to his former best friend. Joonki was all limbs and his shoulders were cocked at an angle as if they couldn't decide to hunch forward or set back. His eyelashes didn't blink, just pooled the rain slipping down his face, his mouth open.

                Taekwoon had finally gotten through to Joonki.

                Turning, despite being soaked through, the younger man started into the lobby, feeling his ex-boyfriend's frozen eyes on his back.

                His shoes squeaking, the concierge staff lifted their heads, then lowered them. They didn't ask any questions and he couldn't seem to register their presence.

                Pressing on the button for the elevator, Taekwoon listened to the rain distantly.

                The doors opened with a mechanical swish, the brunette blinking focused eyes and there he was. There was the face of the man that had changed everything. Wonshik blinked back then let his gaze run over the older man quickly.

                His arms spread and it felt as if Taekwoon fell in them, despite the fact that he didn't remember moving. Wonshik tightened around him and the brunette felt his warm breath on his face, his lips by his ear.

                "I'm sorry," Wonshik murmured softly, "I know I said I was going to give you 20 minutes but—Did something happen?" There was immediate concern in the younger man's voice and his hands were rubbing down the brunette's arms. "You're shivering."

                "Hm?"

                It was then that Taekwoon realized he was trembling, the haze of his mind lifting ever so slightly, and he knew it was not from being drenched. Looking down, he saw his body quaking.

                His mind caught up with his body, the tears barreling headfirst as they blurred his vision. Without realizing it, he had curled his hands into Wonshik's side, fingers digging into his skin through the thin material of his shirt.

                It was over.

                There was a 'finally' in his mind that lingered, one that Taekwoon wanted to put in front of the statement but he couldn't seem to. It hurt too much and instead, his chest ached until he finally breathed—really breathed and his inhale caught in a hiccup, his nose crushing against the pulse in Wonshik's neck.

                The blonde smelled like warmth, like nostalgia and as the elevator ascended, Wonshik supporting him without words, Taekwoon begged himself to acknowledge it:

                They were finally over.


	19. Eighteen

                The callous pad of Wonshik's pinky trailed along the slope of Taekwoon's nose, sliding right off the tip to repeat the action. The brunette just sighed, eyes still closed.

                They were laying along each other and the rain outside pounded against the windows, the quiet so much more so when neither spoke. But Taekwoon didn't want to and Wonshik wasn't about to force him. So instead, they laid there, silent.

                Wonshik was happy.

                Not because Taekwoon was upset. But because this seemed final… This seemed like the end.

                It was selfish, he knew. But he wasn't going to lie to himself and say that he hadn't been looking forward to the day where Taekwoon's boyfriend ceased to be Taekwoon's boyfriend.

                Letting the side of his finger feather the line of the older man's closed eyes, Wonshik felt Taekwoon's hands grip at his waist. Immediately he saw the tears at the corner of the brunette's eyes, pooling in moisture. Wonshik smeared them before they grew too large.

                Taekwoon was refusing to cry and though Wonshik's egotistical side was glad he wasn't crying over somebody while lying in his arms, the mature side of him wanted the other to be comfortable showing emotion with front him. It would only stifle Taekwoon to keep everything hidden.

                His middle finger flitted over the older man's pink lips. They pursed in reply.

                "I wish I could stay."

                Taekwoon nodded. His hands brought Wonshik closer.

                "But I'll be back in no time," the blonde promised, studying Taekwoon's face for any change. There was none though hands still held him tightly.

                The silence this time was sad and Wonshik brought his mouth to the older man's briefly. As if on cue, his phone started vibrating, both tensing at the sound. Brown eyes raised to the bedside table, leaning over Taekwoon as the younger man grabbed a hold of his device and silenced the alarm. He had to pack, shower and catch a cab within the hour. But arms circled him and instead of settling back, or even pulling away to leave the bed altogether, Wonshik sank into Taekwoon.

                Just a few more moments.

 

*

 

                Seeing Wonshik off was melancholy, but even more so was the finality of the day. The sun was just beginning to rise and Taekwoon was in the back of a taxi, watching Wonshik's apartment building slowly pass him by. The other had been whisked away in a black car, their kiss too short.

                Heading back to Hakyeon's felt like death.

                Taekwoon didn’t know how to explain it but everything was different. It would never be like before and it pushed a wall of tears forward, the knot in his throat thickening as each millisecond passed.

                His fingers grabbed at each other, the urge to chew on his thumb welling with his eyes. He just wanted to be in bed. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to go back in time.

                As weak as it sounded, the future without Joonki scared him more than his past.

                But it wasn't Joonki specifically, was it? It was what Joonki had once represented. Now his future would be different.

                How many times had he told Joonki that different wasn't bad? That his family had to understand that while their son was different than what they had imagined he'd be, that wasn't a horrible thing.

                Now, he couldn't take his own advice and embrace that his future was going to be different, but not bad.

                Now, as the car rumbled beneath him and he pictured himself back there, dripping wet in Wonshik's arms, just having told Joonki goodbye, Taekwoon dreaded returning to Hakyeon's house. Because everything had changed.

                Everything.


	20. Nineteen

                "Hi."

                "What are you doing up?"

                "Can't sleep," Taekwoon admitted. Wonshik smiled a lopsided grin and it was immediately disarming. It filled bubbles in the brunette's chest, on the verge of popping but it wasn't enough to bring anything to the surface.

                "Are you on the couch?"

                Nodding, the older man looked at the furniture he was currently sinking in to. It was four in the morning and he hadn't talked to Wonshik, at least not in video chat, since the younger man had landed in Australia a couple days earlier. He could tell the blonde was trying to give him his space which just made everything so much harder.

                Joonki would have been on his ass, unrelenting and suffocating. He would have somehow made it all about him. Not Wonshik, though.

                He was just smiling and gentle and patient and everything Joonki wasn't.

                So why was Taekwoon still comparing the two?

                The obvious choice was in front of him, trying to situate his phone to stand on its own on the treadmill so he could continue his morning cardio. Taekwoon felt the corner of his lip quirk as the phone tumbled with a muttered ' _Shit_ ' from Wonshik.

                Finally getting the phone set up on the exercise machine, hands held out in case it fell again. Once satisfied, the blonde hopped on the treadmill again. Wonshik's face lifted with his chuckle as he must have seen his bobbing figure in the small box on his own device but Taekwoon didn't mind the constant movement. Just enjoyed seeing Wonshik be Wonshik.

                "You feel good?" the brunette asked, watching the other check behind him as another came in to the hotel gym. Bowing his head slightly, he turned back to Taekwoon, taking off his hat momentarily to sift a hand through his platinum blonde hair.

                "I feel good. Jae thinks this is in the bag but you never know these days," he panted out, starting to turn into a full run. "You talk," he instructed and again, Taekwoon felt some happiness just below his surface, wanting so bad to sprout.

                Instead, he bit his lip and looked at the ceiling.

                "Hakyeon asked me if I would move in, like… officially."

                "Ah!" Wonshik said lowly, then looked to the side. Taekwoon was sure if he was clearer, he'd be able to see a slight blush on his face. "Sorry. That’s… great… You say… yes?" he replied in between breaths.

                "Yeah. He said we could start looking for places this week… I don't know."

                "That… would be… good… for you."

                Taekwoon's brow furrowed. "Yeah?"

                Wonshik smiled. "Yeah."

                Pink lips spread. "God, I miss you."

 

*

 

                The days were long. Wonshik didn't know why, just knew that the days felt longer than normal and when he checked his phone after lunch, he noticed that Taekwoon had texted him. He had also received a couple of calls from his manager and his agent, sure it was to notify him about their impending arrival. He had been in Australia for four days now, his fight in two. He had chosen to come to Australia early to focus.

                "OK, I am going to go ahead and put the stencil on. This is just a dry run so you need to tell me what needs to change, ok?" the tattoo artist said in English, both looking to Wonshik's interpreter. The young man, hired only for the afternoon and the subsequent stops to the tattoo parlor after, quickly translated.

                Wonshik knew basic English but this was a big deal.

                This was a calf to hip side piece. There was no room for language barriers.

                "Tell him I'll let him know."

                The translator did his job and Wonshik closed his eyes as the four sheets of transfer paper were laid along his right side.

                It was just the dry run of what he would have done the day after his fight.

                He heard a slight gasp and inquisitive eyes looked up, lips curling at the gloss of the interpreter's gaze, the wonder that dropped his jaw.

"That's a beast."

                Wonshik grinned. "Yes, it is."

                He was also staying an extra week after to get his leg tattoo.

                The phone in his hand buzzed and he peered at it though lying on his side had him falling asleep. Blinking, he raised it to his face.

                It was a picture of Hakyeon's kitchen, filled with smoke, the haze greying everything out. On the stove was a pot filled the charred remains of some dish—chicken, maybe? Underneath it read simply:

                _Don't you wish you were here?_

                Wonshik chuckled then situated himself to text but received a warning glace from the tattoo artist. He hadn't finished transferring the thigh piece yet. He sent him an apologetic glance then proceeded to text Taekwoon back, one handed.

                _I don't want to_ was the simple reply to Wonshik's suggestion of Taekwoon helping Hakyeon cook.

                "Ok, hop up and take a look." The artist pointed to the mirror so Wonshik raised and stood, holding the towel against his cock as he turned to the side.

                It was a beast indeed.

                His phone vibrated and he looked to the stencil of the tattoo before giving the tattoo artist the thumbs up sign, all laughing as Wonshik laid back down on the table to get the transfer ink wiped clean. The blonde went back to his phone, this time able to tap with two fingers instead of one, telling Taekwoon to give him a kiss.

                _No._

                Wonshik sent back yes, then added a please.

                _No_

                Wonshik grinned then turned on the camera, pursing his lips in a kiss towards the lens. Pulling away, he quickly pressed send.

                _Come home and I'll kiss you anywhere you want._

                Groaning, the younger man shook his head. He quickly texted that Taekwoon better be careful—a towel was the only thing covering his dick at the moment.

                _Where are you? -_-_

                Wonshik was allowed to get dressed and once he buttoned up his pants, he thanked both the artist and the translator, making plans for Sunday morning, right after the fight. He hoped he wouldn't be too banged up.

                Bringing out his phone he smiled, then typed: Surprise. Now give me my kiss and go help Hakyeon cook!

                A picture suddenly came through, Taekwoon's lips awkwardly pushed together, a scowl on his face, eyes narrowed in a glare.

                _You better delete that right now._

                Wonshik saved it instead.

 

*

               

                "Ah, he lives," Hakyeon sang, trudging in from the rain, shaking out his umbrella just outside the apartment door. Taekwoon stood at the kitchen sink, washing some fruit he had gotten at the grocery store earlier that day. He glared slightly at the look of astonishment on his friend's face. But then again, he had barely been out of bed the last week.

                "Yeah yeah," Taekwoon muttered. Hakyeon came to his back, putting a chin to his shoulder. Then gasped in delight.

                "And he's showered! Oh my goodness, has my Taekwoonie returned?"

                Taekwoon answering with a shove, Hakyeon laughed, holding his chest to quell the sting.

                "I'm sorry, I am just excited you're back—"

                "I didn't go anywhere," Taekwoon interrupted though he knew that wasn't true. He had been a depressed blob the past week and though everyone was more than understanding, the brunette himself had seen the strain it was putting on his relationships.

                Which is why he had taken out his keyboard and played for the first time in a year.

                He didn't have anything written, but in what felt like forever, he played. It wasn't as soul crushing as he'd imagined. It certainly wasn't as melancholy as he'd thought. He pictured something dramatic and dark—instead, he was left with something just emotional.

                Then, once he was done, his fingers aching though he couldn't seem to find a stopping point, he had looked outside at the rain. And smiled.

                Just as he did back at Hakyeon who now watched him with wide eyes. Immediately, his face grew worried and Hakyeon put a hand to hit squared shoulder.

                "Did you take something?" the older man whispered.

                Shaking his head, Taekwoon turned back to the sink, allowing himself to enjoy the lightness to the conversation again. The memories plagued him for a second—a split second thought of looking out of his shitty kitchen window that faced the side of the building beside them, Joonki coming behind him asking what was for dinner—before Hakyeon stole his attention again.

                "Why is your hair wet?"

                "I walked to the grocery store," he replied, holding up the fruit as evidence

                Hakyeon circled him. "You're doing the most, aren't you? Anyways, I have some news."

                Taekwoon blinked back at him.

                "Sanghyuk got a job." Then, as if it was hard to say. "Like, a real job. It's an internship really—I don't know what the hell it is. But he told me that next Friday is his last day."

                The brunette noticed that his friend was grinning, albeit sadly.

                "You ok?"

                "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

                But there was the inkling in the twinkle in his eyes that told of his loss. He and Sanghyuk were close—closer than Taekwoon knew, that was for sure.

                Waving a hand, Hakyeon reached around him to grab an apple to slice. "So this Friday will be an extra special game night. I told him he has to write each of us a goodbye card. It's the least he can do, leaving the nest like a big boy. And shit," he cursed, face suddenly souring. "That means I have to find another stocker—"

                "I'll do it."

                Blinking Hakyeon, stopped, arching one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows. "You?"

                Taekwoon swallowed, suddenly regretting the offer. But he did need a job, especially if he and Hakyeon were going to get a place together.

                "I don't want to push you—"

                "Is that a no then?"

                Hakyeon yelped. "No! How could you think I would say no to you?"

                "Because you haven't said yes," Taekwoon said, breaking out in a small smile.

                The older man slowly returned it, shaking his head. "If you want it, you got it." But before Taekwoon could start back on the vegetables, Hakyeon framed his shoulders, meeting his eyes. "I just don't want you to rush into this."

                Taekwoon nodded. "I'm not, I promise."

                Looking back towards the sink, the brunette closed his eyes, soaking up Hakyeon's animated chatter. New could be exciting.

                Different wasn't bad.


	21. Twenty

                Taekwoon didn't want to do this. But he had no choice.

                Sanghyuk had suggested it at the game night, the youngest asking the simple question: "You're watching Wonshik tomorrow, right?"

                Taekwoon hadn't wanted to, still a little raw at the last time he had watched the blonde fight. So he had looked away without answering. Then Hakyeon had said something about not watching, Jaehwan chiming in that he kind of wanted to—he had never seen one before. Hongbin didn't care either way though he hinted at wanting to see a shirtless Wonshik. Taekwoon sat next to him roughly and gave him a not so subtle glare.

                In the end, it was the blonde himself who had convinced him.

                "You're going to watch, right?" Wonshik asked, face filling the phone screen.

                Taekwoon couldn't help but smile. "Sure."

                That was the day before and now, with a heavy hand, Taekwoon knocked on Sanghyuk's door.

                "Finally, you've been standing out there forever," Sanghyuk laughed, opening the door wider. They were at the youngest man's house since he had the biggest television. Plus, his two roommates were gone for the night so they had the small place to themselves. Hakyeon only agreed to come because his favorite, and only, employee was leaving town in a couple weeks.

                Taekwoon held up the plastic bag containing snacks, silently asking where to put it and was directed to the kitchen counter. When he passed by Jaehwan and Hongbin already seated, he didn't miss how Hongbin watched him.

                "What?" Taekwoon finally asked, noting the devilish smile on the younger man's face. "What are you smiling about?"

                "Oh nothing. Just trying to gauge how nervous you are."

                "You're a little shit."

                Taekwoon was very nervous, though. In fact, more than he'd ever been. Because he knew how hard Wonshik trained and especially coming off of a loss—then the scandal—from Guillame St. Francois, all eyes were on him.

                So tonight, Taekwoon, in a decidedly uncharacteristic move, was going to try and drink his way through the night. Uncorking the first bottle he could find, he watched the glass as he filled it. Then he watched the television screen as he drank it.

 

*

 

                They weren't even a couple minutes in to Wonshik's first round before all of five them were standing in front of the large television, watching the fight with bated breath. Taekwoon had been drinking for the past hour so his stance wavered slightly but Hakyeon was able to grab him before he actually fell, eventually using him as a shield right as the second round started.

                The beginning had been a show of both men's agenda's. Wonshik danced around the octagon, the other fighter, a man of similar build but a bit shorter, pacing after him. He was a veteran fighter of 10 years and even though Wonshik was younger, there was a calculation to the challenger's attack.

                However, his strikes were starting to turn wild and they all could tell he was getting frustrated. The crowd booed in their own irritation—they wanted something to land. They wanted some action.

                "Why isn't Wonshik doing anything?" Hongbin demanded, looking at Taekwoon like the brunette could answer. The older man just blinked, one eye remaining closed before his shoulders shrugged. Trying to refocus on the screen as his vision blurred, his stomach jumped slightly.

                But then there was Wonshik in the middle of the mat. His shorts were mid-thigh and when he bounced slightly, sweat dusted muscles flexing, Taekwoon smiled to himself. He was so handsome.

                Then quickly, too quickly, the opponent finally landed a good right hook to Wonshik's jaw causing him to stumble back slightly. A collective gasp sounded out in the room, Hakyeon huddling behind Taekwoon.

                But when Wonshik recovered, he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, smearing the blood from the corner of his mouth with curled hands.

                Taekwoon swallowed loudly, his body vibrating. Inebriated or not, he couldn't deny the energy Wonshik possessed when he fought. Seeing him on screen only reminded the brunette of that night in Tokyo, the electricity of the crowd and of Wonshik himself forever imprinting on Taekwoon.

                "I can't watch," Hakyeon groaned, turning around.

                Sanghyuk threw them a look. "He's just— _Oh my god!_ "

                Hongbin, Jaehwan and Sanghyuk all hollered as the challenger had tried again with the right hook but failed to connect as Wonshik dipped to the side. Not missing a beat, Wonshik easily raised a knee, and slammed it into the other man's stomach. At the pause, Wonshik curled that same leg in, this time pistoning it in right below the other fighter's diaphragm, at the edge of the ribs.

                Immediately, the challenger's arms dropped, his jaw doing the same, face screwed up as his hands clutched at his abdomen. Another second more and—

                "Oh shit," Taekwoon moaned, Wonshik's body blurring before him as he closed his eyes, bent over with his hands on his knees and vomited.

 

*

 

                The knee caught his opponent off guard and the first kick gave him opportunity. With the wind knocked out of the challenger, it was easy to set up the next, final blow.

                And there, like the glow of the sun through the water's depth, was a holy three second pause from the veteran fighter. A moment where Wonshik took advantage and in a show of athleticism, swung his left leg up again, kicking with all his might. The top of his foot met the side of the man's head with a dull smack and a slight crunch, the other fighter's eyes rolling back in his head as he fell to the mat with a thud, Wonshik easily pouncing to sit on him, knees skidding against the mat as he landed.

                Two punches, both to right side of the face were all he could fire off before being torn away to screams and hollers.

                But Wonshik was already smiling.

                Dropping to his knees and he struck the mat three times to the hysteria of the crowd. It rolled down his back along with the sweat that had started to pour from his exertion. That kick had spent way too much energy.

                It was worth it though: he had another win.

                Jae was grabbing his shoulders, ripping him up and gathering him for a hug. Wonshik felt his arms cinch around his ribs, felt his manager's hands slapping at his bare back.

                "You did it, Shik! You fucking did it!"

                That was Kyungmin, Jae just laughing. He felt his lips curling again, enjoying himself in their elation.

                Suddenly the crowd started booing and Wonshik felt his entire team stop on the same beat, unmoving while their eyes all looked for the cause. The blonde found it as he saw the medic come into the octagon along with the judges, one holding a tablet.

                "Replay?" Wonshik mumbled, looking to Jae. The older man frowned.

                "What is the replay for?" he asked, pushing Wonshik back behind him, looking at the judge holding the tablet up to the referee. "What is the replay for?" he raised his voice in English, Kyungmin having to now step in between him and the officials.

                "The kick," the judge said, giving Wonshik a look. It wasn't hard but it was scrutinizing enough to hold judgement and suddenly, the blonde felt his stomach roll.

                "It was to the side of the head, tell them Jae! It was to the side!" he implored in Korean, pushing at his trainer.

                If they deemed the kick had been to the back of the head, then that was a foul—a big enough one to call the fight on. Especially since the other fighter was barely awake.

                "Tell them it was the side of the fucking head!" Wonshik shouted, refusing to be this close and to lose based on a technicality.

                Kyungmin stepped forward, putting his hands out. "We're not going to bother you while you review, but keep in mind," he said artfully, "the challenger didn't turn his face so it wasn't to the back of the head. My fighter would have to be magic to make someone's ear bleed from a kick to the back of the skull."

                The heckling turned angry as Wonshik was lead towards his team's corner, the opponent now able to sit up. The bleeding had stopped and the judges and the referee were still clumped together, watching over the video.

                The waiting felt worse than a decision and Wonshik suddenly felt like crying. Not twice in a row—he couldn't lose twice in a row. Not like this.

                "Calm down," Jae barked but when their eyes met, it was with good intentions.

                Suddenly, it got eerily quiet as a judge finally closed the tablet, nodding at the official. The referee then looked at Wonshik, calling him to the middle of ring. With hesitant footsteps, the blonde went, not looking over his shoulder at his team though he wanted to.

                Was this to tell him he had been disqualified? Or that the contest was over and his foul had cost him the match since he hadn't done much the first round? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a judge walk over to Kyungmin and Jae, trying to explain.

                Wonshik felt his heart plunge, his eyes closing.

                His challenger was still on the floor and while Wonshik tried to talk himself out of his internal rage, trying to contain his disappointment, the referee grabbed his hand. Warm fingers wrapped around his wrist, twisting slightly at the sweat that still painted his body.

With no words from the announcer, his arm suddenly lifted, his fist raised above his head and the cries reverberating from crowd shook the entire dome.

                Absolute mayhem erupted and Wonshik fell to his knees a second time.

 

*

 

                "What's wrong with Taekwoon again?"

                The video chat screen was full of Hakyeon's face, the left side of Hongbin, Jaehwan's eyes at the bottom and Sanghyuk's ear. Wonshik smiled as they all tried to fit in the lens.

                "He drank too much."

                "That's an understatement, he literally blew chunks all over my floor."

                "He was nervous, give him a break."

                "Wonshik can't see me—Hakyeon, move your face."

                Laughing, the blonde then winced, his jaw still a little sore. But he'd gladly take it as one of only two battle wounds of the night. Just thinking back to the fight had his heart racing, the end creating a ball of anxiety that hadn't quite unraveled yet. It was close—he had almost lost. Kyungmin had roughly pulled him to the side after, telling him to watch himself next time. He had a reputation for his fouls and the judges had him on their radars now.

                Jae had smiled when his manager walked away. "That's a good thing, Shikkie."

                "Anyways, what a fight, huh?" Hakyeon resumed, capturing Wonshik's attention again. They were still tussling for the camera and every now and then he'd see a slice of Taekwoon on the couch behind them. Lips curling, Wonshik blushed.

                "You all watched?" he asked, fixing his phone to lean against a pillow to his side, face turned towards it. He was on his back, his leg raised, supported by even more pillows. The position wasn’t all that comfortable and his body itched to turn over. But his foot was swollen, Jae sure there was a fracture in there somewhere, though they wouldn't know until an x-ray was done. In the meantime, it was wrapped tightly and elevated.

                Taekwoon was going to kill him when he saw. 

                Smiling, Wonshik returned back to the screen. He had intended on having a late night FaceTime call with the brunette but instead, the phone had been answered by four voices all shouting at the same time. Wonshik felt his chest tighten as they answered his question.

                "Of course we watched!"

                "That was fucking amazing! I can't believe we know you."

                "I can't believe you almost killed someone."

                "He—what? He didn't—"

                "I almost cried."

                Everyone suddenly looked at Hakyeon who froze, eyes wide and round. "I didn't think anyone was going to hear me."

                "That was a good show," Sanghyuk brought the conversation back, now halfway in view. He was smiling, a little dopey looking and it was the first time Wonshik felt cool. "If I can score tickets, I am definitely going to your next one. Are you planning to fight in Korea any time soon?"

                Brow furrowing, Wonshik ran a hand through the mess of hair falling in his eyes, body twisting before he remembered his foot. "Sanghyuk, you don't have to… Just let me know when you want to come and I can set it up."

                Wonshik had never seen Sanghyuk speechless—and by judging the look on the other's faces, they hadn't either.

                "When are you coming back?" Hongbin broke the silence though he was somewhere off screen.

                "Did we tell you Sanghyuk is leaving?"

                "It's not a big deal, Hakyeon. Stop telling people like it's this… thing," Sanghyuk grumbled, heading off camera and Wonshik was sure if he could see more of the younger man, he'd have a blush or a scowl. Or both.

                "It is a big deal, Sanghyukkie. We're going to miss you," Hakyeon said, leaning over, puckering up his lips for a kiss. As soon as he too was out of the picture—a high pitched squeal from Sanghyuk signaling he had at least landed a kiss somewhere on the younger man— Jaehwan and Hongbin hopped into view, both smiling.

                "So how is Australia? Is the weather nice?

                "Taekwoon won't tell us anything," Jaehwan fake pouted, then looked over immediately, holding a hand out. "Not yet! You had your chance! It's ours—"

                There was a bit of a scuffle, the phone falling at one point and Wonshik just laughed, turning his head to the ceiling with a close of his eyes. Listening, he started to feel himself fall asleep. He knew it was time to head to bed anyways, his 10 am appointment with the tattoo artist early enough.

                But part of him wasn't ready to get off the phone. Part of him wasn't ready for this night to end.

                "I get back in a week, when does Sanghyuk leave? Maybe we can go out for dinner—"

                "Yes!"

                "Jaehwan, if you don't—"

                "Listen to the man, sheesh. You all are worse than children!"

                "Give me this."

                Hongbin took the phone and Wonshik looked back to the screen, laughing as he watched the other run into the kitchen. Then, the screen returned to his own face, the call having ended. Chuckling, he reached out and stuffed the phone under his pillow.

                Twenty minutes later though, an incessant buzzing beneath his head started. Tucking his hand into the pillow, he grabbed his phone and answered the phone call, putting it to his ear.

                "Hi," Taekwoon mumbled.

                Lips spreading, Wonshik's shoulders fell into the mattress. "Hi. You ok?"

                "No," Taekwoon groaned, his voice wrought with discomfort. "They're too loud and I don't feel well." A long pause. "Are you coming home?"

                "Are you still drunk?"

                Taekwoon grumbled something he couldn't make out, making Wonshik grin.

                "Did you win?"

                "You didn't watch?" Wonshik teased.

                It was too much for the other to answer because he just made a noise, a harrumphing of sorts and then it sounded like he was asleep, an extra long breath escaping him. Wonshik had since closed his own eyes but blinked awake when he heard Hakyeon and Jaehwan fussing once more.

                "Make them stop."

                "OK," Wonshik promised, sighing himself. His eyes were too heavy to keep open.

                "Are you falling asleep on me?"

                The blonde opened his eyes wide. "Nope. Why were you drinking tonight?"

                "Aish, who told you I was drinking?" There was a chorus of answers in the background, Sanghyuk reiterating that Taekwoon had blown chunks all over his floor. "Jerks," the brunette moaned with a yawn. "I miss you. When are you coming home again?"

                Wonshik smiled, lifting his phone to his face to look at his calendar. "Seven—no, six days."

                "Six days it is."

                Taekwoon fell back asleep a moment later, Wonshik not far behind.

 

 

Six days later…

 

 

                Taekwoon was watching a little beetle walk across a can. It looked like a ladybug except it was yellow. He pondered its existence as he reached to the cart beside him, picking up another can of condensed soup and stacking it right next to the insect. He watched it walk across one rim to another.

                "How did you get in here?" he asked, grabbing another can.

                "I don't think he's going to answer you."

                Rolling his eyes, Taekwoon ignored Hakyeon who flitted past him, running to the back to answer the ringing phone. He smiled once he heard his best friend's greeting.

                Hearing the bell of the convenience store door, Taekwoon crouched slightly. He was taller than the shelves so whenever customers arrived, he would normally try to make himself as small as possible. Just had to wait it out until Hakyeon came back.

                Work was going well.

                His first week at Hakyeon's store had been both mindless and soothing. He liked stacking things so it was somewhat of a game. Sometimes he'd challenge himself to see how many chocolate candy wrappers he could line up before they'd fall—his best was 25.

                It was also a nice quiet time and he'd already scribbled a couple notes in his notepad for some arrangements he had on the brain. One had bothered him the whole day and when he had gotten home, he'd spent four more hours at the keyboard tearing it from his mind. It was his new favorite.

                Hakyeon's laugh was loud as he talked to whoever on the phone. That was enjoyable too. So far, they hadn't had any disagreements though the older man was ready for Taekwoon to at least learn the cash register system.

                "In case I'm not here." At Taekwoon's look, Hakyeon expanded. "And you are."

                "That will never happen."

                The older man had laughed and went on his way, Taekwoon finally smiling when he was left alone in the aisle.

                He really was enjoying it.

                If Wonshik could see him now, he thought with a wry smile.

                He would soon enough, the brunette thought, digging in his pocket and looking at his phone. Wonshik was set to land in a couple hours, having been away for two long weeks. But it wasn't the time apart as they had talked every day since, sometimes a couple times a day. It was the distance. Taekwoon just wanted him close already.

                Lips curving, his eyes closed as he nodded to himself, biting at the corner of his mouth.

                "You know what that does to me," came as a whisper in his ear and suddenly, lips parted, Taekwoon's eyes popping open. That deep voice sounded too real to be anything but. Warmth that seemed to seep only from the blonde felt too real to be anything but. That familiar scent of comfort was entirely too real to be anything but.

                Face screwing up for a second, Taekwoon then whipped around, eyes frozen as they watched Wonshik's pair, smile growing.

                "Hi," Wonshik breathed.

                Taekwoon's brow relaxed and with hands that moved on their own accord, fingers curled around shoulders before arms circled the blonde and they were brought together—chest to chest. There was a mouth at the vertex of his neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss as he squeezed.

                Wonshik's arms wound around his waist, his face smoothing against Taekwoon's and it was only a moment before their mouths met. A single, lightweight press as the brunette's hands came to the blonde's ears, his throat suddenly aching.

                "I missed you," he murmured against Wonshik's wonderfully soft lips and he felt the other's chuckle, reaching for another hug. Burying his head in his Wonshik's neck, he breathed.

                "I missed you more."

                Taekwoon wanted to say that wasn't possible, fingers curling into the sweatshirt Wonshik wore, refusing to move.

                "Were you surprised?" the blonde asked.

                "You said you were getting in at ten," Taekwoon shot, though his forehead wouldn't leave the crook, arms tightening.

                "I'm not going anywhere," Wonshik assured gently, shifting his feet slightly, trying to pull away. Leaning around, he lifted Taekwoon's face for a closer look. He smiled when he noticed glass eyes. "You missed me that much?"

                "You lied," the brunette deadpanned, changing the subject. "I was going to do something for you."

                "You still can."

                Taekwoon answered with another kiss, this time Wonshik's fingers threading through the long chocolate strands, their mouths moving along one another's. With a quick swipe of his tongue, the blonde's moan vibrated against both of their chests.

                The chime of the front door bell broke them apart, Taekwoon reaching out to wipe at Wonshik's lips as the other took a step away. It was then that he noticed the crutch the younger man was currently leaning on, then down to the blue boot he was wearing.

                Wide eyes raised. "What the hell happened?!"

 

*

 

                Wonshik couldn't stop staring at Taekwoon's eyes, how they'd get big then narrow in scrutiny. Then slightly burdened until meeting his own. Then they'd slip into a glare.

                "I missed you," the blonde repeated, looking around him before he reached for Taekwoon's jaw, tilting his face to his. Their kiss was magic on replay, mouths fitting perfectly together for a moment before the scuffing of shoes sounded out a couple aisles beside them. Taekwoon pursed his lips, giving him another look.

                "You said your foot was fine—what is this?" he asked, motioning towards the boot and crutch combination.

                Wonshik's face warmed, a hand going to the back of his neck to scratch at an imaginary itch. "Me being stupid," he admitted. "I don't even need the crutches though, it's just because this boot is so clunky. And Jae won't let me try to walk without it."

                Taekwoon was looking at it again. "Does it hurt?"

                "No," Wonshik laughed. "Not really. I mean, it feels weird."

                "Excuse me," a voice sounded out beside them and a young woman seemingly half their size looked up at both of them. Noticing them, her eyes glossed slightly, mouth dropping open.

                "Hakyeon, I'm leaving!" Taekwoon suddenly yelled, startling both Wonshik and the woman.

                "What?!" was yelled in answer. "You said you were going to stay until nine—"

                "Wonshik's back," was the simple reply.

                "Oh, yes, go _go_! I don't want to hear you cry about how much you miss—"

                "And you have a customer," Taekwoon finished, looking at the young woman who was now flushed red, her eyes focused on the floor.

                "Oh, coming!" Hakyeon sang. "And tell Wonshik I said hello!"

                Wonshik opened his mouth but Taekwoon put a hand over his face. He shook his head quickly and started out of the store, pulling a hobbling Wonshik with him.

                "Slow down."

                Wonshik laughed at the look on Taekwoon's face at the command, speaking volumes. They hadn't seen each other for two weeks, hadn't held each other for two whole weeks. They hadn't tasted each other for an entire two weeks, is what that look said. It pleaded with him.

                A moment alone so they could make up for the time apart.

                "You're going to hate me," Wonshik said softly, the pair coming to a stop a couple blocks from Hakyeon's store. It was easier to hail a cab by the train stop and almost as if saying so, Taekwoon's eyes flew to the station.

                "I can go and get a cab there and come pick you up—"

                Wonshik laughed. "It's not that."

                "Then what is it?" Taekwoon implored.

                "I have a surprise for you."

                Eyes narrowing, Taekwoon's mouth curled slightly. "What now?"

                Wonshik brought a hand to his shoulder, wanting to tell him in a more romantic way but they were in public.

                "I wish I could kiss you right now."

                Taekwoon's brow furrowed. "You're killing me."

                "I promise, we will have all the time in the world. Just be outside Hakyeon's in an hour."

                The brunette's confusion turned to aggravation. "Wonshik, what is going on?"

                "I told you, it’s a surprise—"

                "I don't like surprises."

                Wonshik rolled his eyes. "You're going to like this one."

                Hands grabbed the blonde's face, a step closer to his body. "I missed you so much. All I want to do is be next to you and you're asking me to wait."

                Lips curved, large, tattooed hands covering Taekwoon's. "I waited for you, didn't I?"

                Their mouths met and it didn't matter, it didn't matter they were on the street, that people could see them. It was a concession of sorts. It was a compromise and Taekwoon nodded as he pulled away, face pained though his heart beat in his gaze.

                "I'm glad you're back. I still hate surprises though."


	22. Twenty One

                Wonshik had texted to wear something nice. Taekwoon looked down at his black slacks and forest green shirt. This was nice, right?

                It was his fifth outfit and part of him said it better be nice. He didn't have any time to change, the car Wonshik had sent rolling to a stop. There had been the initial disappointment when the blonde wasn't in the actual car but then again, he had said this was a surprise. Taekwoon's stomach flipped at the thought.

                Looking out, Taekwoon saw the restaurant, the name ringing familiar. But the thought was short-lived as he saw Wonshik waiting outside its doors. Feeling his jaw slightly drop, the brunette couldn't contain the bubbles quickly expanding his chest.

                Wonshik's blonde hair was combed back and parted stylishly to the side. He was in a navy button down shirt, black tie dark against the blue that seemed bright despite the disappearing evening sun. His broad shoulders, the black of his tattoos peeking out of his collar, the smile on his face.

                Taekwoon suddenly felt silly. Suddenly felt emotional.

                Opening the door, he stepped out of the vehicle, Wonshik's eyes finding him immediately. That smile widened, pearly teeth glistening.

                "Hi," Taekwoon mumbled, unable to take his eyes off of the other. His mouth parted in a chuckle as he realized Wonshik was still leaning on the crutch though the boot was gone.

                "You look… amazing," the blonde finally breathed, reaching for him. Arms fit around each other once more and Taekwoon's chest caved in, hands gripping.

                "I remember the last time I saw you dressed up," Taekwoon mumbled into his shoulder. He knew he should let go but he couldn't. Wonshik smelled too good. "It was at that party."

                There were lips in his hair, near his ear. "That fateful night, huh?"

                But despite the jest in Wonshik's voice, it was true. That was quite the fateful night. The words spoken in that stairwell lead to this moment and the resounding impact settled on both their shoulders.

                "Let's get inside."

                Taekwoon nodded, knowing they couldn't stay this way forever though something inside him wanted to. It was the first time, truly the first time he had missed someone so _much_.

                Ever since he was a teenager, he had followed Joonki but the other man was always _around_. Taekwoon never had to go far to find him. Though he had been beyond his reach, he had always been there.

                Even when Joonki would travel, first for basketball, then for MMA, he was never gone long.

                Taekwoon realized what it felt like to truly need someone else, realized with a fleeting heaviness he had never quite felt this way about his ex.

                Fingers wrapped around his for a moment before falling away and the pair went into the restaurant. The lighting was low in the threshold, brightening into burgundy and gold, jazz playing in the background. It was a large dining space they traversed through, Taekwoon's steps right behind Wonshik's as they kept walking.

                Finally, they made it through the main seating, through the bustling dinner crowd to a sliding door. A staff member bowed, pushing it to the side. Wonshik stepped to the right, sweeping a hand through in a silent gesture. Taekwoon's eyes narrowed slightly but he went in none the less. Immediately he noticed the decided hush. There was no noise beyond that door. There was no scrambling servers. There was no one, no tables.

                Except one.

                Lips curling, Taekwoon shook his head.

                "Surprise," Wonshik revealed, steering him toward the sole table in the middle of the dining room. Set with dinner ware and a candle, it was heart wrenching. It was beautiful.

                "Wonshik," the brunette murmured, eyes blinking to keep an unfamiliar ache at bay. He was embarrassed, confused at the fact that he wanted to just drop to his knees. But he was so emotional—this was making him so emotional and he didn't know why.

                "Yea?"

                Taekwoon frowned, looking over. "What is this?"

                Wonshik smiled brilliantly. "It's our first date."

                By the grace of some god, Taekwoon didn't fall into tears. Instead he just watched Wonshik, the proud look on his face. The loving look on his face, directed towards him.

                "I'm overwhelmed."

                "That’s a good thing… right?"

                "Let's sit down."

                They came to the small table, Wonshik trying to situate his crutch against the table. Then he frowned and asked one of the servers to keep it. Taekwoon felt his anxiety wane a little at the scene. It made him wanted to kiss Wonshik senseless. He wanted to somehow repay this feeling, somehow explain this indescribable emotion. But his mind was stuck, there seemingly no words to show his gratitude.

                "You didn't have to do this," he said instead, internally cringing. Because he wanted Wonshik to know that even though this wasn't necessary, it was amazing—he was absolutely amazing and Taekwoon didn't feel worthy.

                Wonshik's face, smooth and slightly tinted, looked golden in the glow of the chandelier above them. It hit Taekwoon with a delayed timing that not only were they alone, that Wonshik had decidedly made it so that they were comfortable. They could look lovingly at each other as much as they wanted.

                "Oh, you thought this was for you?"

                Breaking from his thoughts, Taekwoon's eyebrow cocked slightly. Wonshik was smiling again, that dazzling smile that the brunette had missed. The ache was back again.

                "So this is for you?"

                Reaching over to grab his hand, calloused fingers, rough from training, circled his. "Taekwoon," Wonshik started, deep voice rumbling. "I've never done this before."

                The vice cranked in Taekwoon's chest as he listened.

                "I've never dated anyone. Fighting has always been number one and I was fine with that. There wasn't… I had never met anyone that made me want to put it second." Taekwoon's lips turned down as he started blinking. "I just want this to feel as special as it is… if that makes sense."

                It made complete sense and it was even more overpowering, the simple words speaking so loudly.

                "You want to date me?"

                Wonshik's chuckle was the sweetest sound Taekwoon had ever heard. "Was that cheesy?"

                Taekwoon shook his head, raising their hands to his mouth. Lips pursed against the skull tattoo, he closed his eyes.

                "I don't know how to say thank you," he mumbled into Wonshik's skin, knot in his throat growing. Opening his eyes, he looked at Wonshik.

                The blonde turned his palm, settling it on Taekwoon's cheek. "You just did."

 

*

 

                The door clicked shut—and it was a moment of relief.

                Their night had been indulgent and slow, full of stolen touches and soft glances.

                The door shutting suddenly signaled the chance of a kiss—a real kiss and with the same admiration, Wonshik caught Taekwoon's mouth. A single press that hurt because it wasn't enough, he needed more. He needed him.

                As soon as they were beyond the threshold, Wonshik wasted no time in letting the crutch fall with a clank, their bodies mimicking the motion as they made their way to the floor.

                Two weeks was a long time.

                Taekwoon mumbled against Wonshik's mouth as they pulled at each other's shirts. His tongue leisurely licked at the younger man's teeth, slipping over his open mouth.

                "Here," he said, kissing the words a moment later. "Right here."

                The blonde shivered as he immediately pictured being inside of Taekwoon, his shoulders pressed into wood floor. Their bodies moved in sync as Taekwoon easily crawled over him.

                There were lips at his neck, right behind his ear and Wonshik's breath stuttered as Taekwoon bit slightly, riding him through his clothes. His hands smoothed further down, fingers gripping the brunette's ass to guide him.

                Taekwoon pulled away, breathing hard as he just stared. Wonshik felt it in the pit of his stomach, felt this mounting of energy.

                Then Taekwoon smiled, rounded teeth on display and that energy suddenly burst like fireworks within the confines of Wonshik's ribcage. His hands settled on the brunette's thighs, holding slightly.

                They watched each other for the next minute.

                Then Taekwoon started unbuttoning Wonshik's shirt, still sitting on his groin as his long arms extended. When he was done, he started on the belt buckle and the zipper of the blonde's slacks. He looked up once he noticed Wonshik still watching him. He made a motion with his chin and the younger man grinned, following orders as he awkwardly stretched out of the shirt.

                When Taekwoon shifted back, Wonshik's hands reached to slide his pants down but he was stopped. The older man caught his eyes as he gently hooked his fingers under the waistband of Wonshik's underwear, sliding them along with his pants down his thighs.

                The blonde closed his eyes, suddenly nervous.

                Just as he imagined, the pull stopped halfway down. Peeking, Wonshik saw Taekwoon staring at his thigh, eyes tracing the thick black lines extending both upwards to his hip bone and downwards, sinking into the fabric of his pants. Those dark eyes took it in, lips parting. Hesitantly, one of Taekwoon's hands rested on the tattoo, fingers light as they traced the face of the dragon.

                Then those eyes raised to his.

                Wonshik hardened completely, his gaze going black as he felt his clothes being removed slowly. And when Taekwoon's hands traveled back up along the outside of his legs, the palm of his right hand lighter, the blonde took in a deep breath.

                Settling back onto Wonshik's naked body, Taekwoon kissed him softly. His body was shaking and the younger man felt his own chest start to hum. His hands grabbed at the other man's clothes, but Taekwoon was focused on their kiss.

                "Taekwoon," Wonshik begged, another second and the brunette's tongue swirled into his mouth. The blonde's fingers fisted into the fabric of Taekwoon's pants.

                "I want you so much," the older man admitted, finally pulling away. He stretched out of his shirt, Wonshik's hands immediately coming to his sides and up to his chest. Taekwoon's back arched a little as he moved his hips, grinding himself onto Wonshik.

                Fingers popped the button of Taekwoon's slacks, brushing the clothed head of his cock as it strained upwards. Licking his lips, Wonshik reached over into his discarded clothing as Taekwoon stood to remove his final pieces of clothing. Tearing at the condom package, Wonshik rolled it onto himself as the other returned, his knees framing Wonshik's slightly spread thighs.

                Without another word, the brunette reached his fingers behind him. Wonshik's muscles quivered and he realized the whole reason Taekwoon was on top was to accommodate him. A vibration reverberated throughout his chest and though his movements were not rushed, there was a hastiness to his want as he pulled Taekwoon's fingers away from his body.

                Wonshik guided his way into the brunette, Taekwoon's hand planting on his chest as he was lowered. A groan, bordering a whimper, tumbled from his mouth as the stretch burned them both. Fingernails dug into the tattoos on Wonshik's chest and as his eyes started to roll at the immense heat, that pain brought him back. It stalled his gut reaction to just buck his hips and made his hands, stationed around Taekwoon's waist, slow in their pull. The brunette's open mouth sighed in appreciation.

                When Taekwoon's ass sat fully on the top of Wonshik's groin, they shared an inhale—then exhale. Their eyes met, Taekwoon licking his dry lips as the blonde's chest heaved again. The hand on his chest suddenly splayed and Taekwoon started lifting himself.

                As he rode Wonshik, their bodies starting to adjust to the position, to the tiny rhythm, their eyes kept ahold of each other. Even as Taekwoon moaned, knees squeezing as he raised a little higher, body trembling in the wake of a particularly nice stroke, Wonshik didn't look away. Instead, he grabbed the brunette's hips and brought him down fast. Then he pushed Taekwoon to his back, Wonshik maneuvering over him as he gripped under Taekwoon's knees and fell into his thrust. The older man cried out, Wonshik wanting to as well, head falling to the other's.

                Immediately, Taekwoon kissed at his lips, Wonshik lowering his shoulders so he could fit his mouth against the older man's, both melting into each other.

                That's what had been missing.

                Taekwoon's arms circled his ribs as Wonshik fucked him, muscles tight as he was deep inside for a moment of blind need. The brunette clawed at his skin, bit at his lips, moaned into his mouth as the blonde ignored the odd angle of his injured foot and continued rutting.

                The night had been about them and the journey they were heading into together.

                This moment was about how much they wanted each other, physical closeness the only way to articulately express it.

                Taekwoon lifted his legs closer to his chest and Wonshik pulled up, finally tearing their mouths from each other as he leaned both of his hands on the backs of the older man's thighs, pressing down as his waist swiveled with his thrusts. The brunette's body shook with his moan.

                "Take," Taekwoon murmured with a furrowed brow, fishing his hands into Wonshik's slightly sweat licked hair. He forced their eyes to meet, warmth swimming in the gaze. "Take off the condom."

                The blonde stalled mid-pump and it was dangerous, the reactions coursing through his system at the soft request.

                But before he could ask if the other man was sure, Taekwoon was reaching down, pushing Wonshik's hips away. The sound as he slid out of the brunette was sick and exciting, his arousal spiking at the thought: he was going to be back in him. This time without a condom.

                Fingers quickly made work of peeling the latex from his swollen cock, each stroke of his hand paling in comparison of what was to come.

                For a moment, Wonshik wondered if he had ever done this with Joonki.

                But the thought was fleeting at best, because Taekwoon moaned wantonly, legs spreading instinctively. Wonshik didn't keep him waiting and as he pushed in all the way—the entire fucking way—he made sure his mouth was near Taekwoon's.

                They didn't kiss at first, their mouths just brushing each other every now and then as Wonshik started a pace. Their eyes met though. And it was heavy, it was overwhelming. Taekwoon's body, wrapped around him, was warm and soft and hard to leave as Wonshik pulled out to push in.

                His thrusts were a back and forth of heaven and hell, his absence each time making their lust ridden rhythm quicken. Because there was something magical about being deep inside of Taekwoon, something that quenched a thirst he didn't know he had. Because there was something innate in the way their bodies fit.

                "Wonshik," Taekwoon whined and it was so unlike him, so reduced that the blonde's belly seized in response.

                He fucked him into the floor, their hands finding each other's, intertwining as their skin smacked in a proper end to their reunion.

                When Taekwoon finally came, back arching off the sweat drenched wood floor, Wonshik panicked. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ok with it being over yet. But as the pleasure flooded throughout the brunette, the muscles around the blonde knew his limits.

                With one more deep thrust, he leaned his weight into Taekwoon, the older man catching his mouth in a desperate moment. Wonshik's eyes clamped shut, lips mashed together.

                Coming inside Taekwoon was one of the holiest moments Wonshik had ever had. And when the second wave of his release hit him, fingers reaching down to bite into the older man's hips to keep him still, Wonshik tried to keep his own body frozen. He needed to relish this. He needed to remember this.

                He needed Taekwoon.

                Still, he thought as his exhausted body relaxed slightly. He needed Taekwoon still and with a look down, he looked at the object of his desire: the rouge on the brunette's cheeks, the way his mouth hung open as he panted, hair plastered to his forehead and scalp, messy and gorgeous. He looked back, almost like he was in love.

                Wonshik felt himself start to move again, Taekwoon's eyes closing at the sensation.

                Two weeks was too long.

 

*

 

                A finger lightly ran along Taekwoon's spine, mouth making shapes in the brunette's shoulder. It brought a small smile to his lips.

                "Stop."

                Wonshik did it again though this time, his teeth scraped slightly, Taekwoon shooting his elbow back into the man laying along his back. The blonde's chuckle resonated between them.

                The early morning was dark outside and it shrouded them in cover. Blinking out the window, Taekwoon remembered the feeling of seeing Wonshik's newest tattoo for the first time. It filled him with the same awe, with the same exhilaration as before and he sat up slightly. Pulling the blanket from around them, Taekwoon leaned over and looked at the large outline that spanned from Wonshik's hip to his mid-calve. Reaching out, his fingers hovered above the lines that were still slightly raised. Other than the large ornamental head of what looked like a traditional dragon, the body went on forever, winding down the younger man's thighs, then his knee and calf. It stopped in an outline of waves right above the knot of his ankle, a small figure of a child standing in front of it.

                The scales were intricate, the places where there was color were done in a vein of watercolor to paper and its mere size was intimidating. Taekwoon couldn't take his eyes off of it as his gaze followed the body back up to Wonshik's naked waist, lips quirking at the ridges of the other's sculpted body.   

                "What does it mean?" he asked, settling back down against the blonde's chest.

                Wonshik's nose nuzzled the shell of his ear, chest heaving against Taekwoon's back. "The tattoo?"

                The brunette nodded, resting his head further into the pillow while bringing Wonshik's arms tighter around him. He didn't need much coaxing, hands gripping his body before relaxing against a stomach and thigh.

                Taekwoon was starting to fall back asleep when he realized Wonshik hadn't responded. He turned his face and saw the blonde's eyes open. They caught his and then turned down, Wonshik's mouth pressing to his shoulder blade.

                "You don't have to—"

                "It's not that," came the mumbled reply. A deep inhale was the next thing Taekwoon heard. "I remember my grandmother would tell me and my sister these old stories from her village. And in one of them, there was this dragon. It was always there," Wonshik paused. "But in the background. Not bad or good, just there. No one else could see the dragon except for this boy. He always felt it one step behind him.

                "I feel like that little boy."

                Dark eyelashes lifted slowly, blinking at the blue midnight outside. "What's the dragon?"

                Wonshik stilled. "Me."

                Shifting around, Taekwoon faced the blonde, their eyes finding each other. He asked him without words to elaborate.

                "Sometimes, I feel like… I've created this thing. Like, I wonder when enough will be enough. Will it be when I win a title fight? Will it be when I make more money than I've ever dreamed of? Will it be if I ever am recognized as the fighter I aspire to be. I have all these thoughts running around and with each day, I feel like I'm getting closer. But I don't always know what I'm getting closer _to_. I feel like, all of my worries, all my thoughts melt into this huge… thing in me."

                Wonshik ran his nose over Taekwoon's lips. The brunette knew what he was trying to do.

                "That's what the dragon represents?"

                The blonde shrugged.

                "Why did you start fighting?"

                That produced a chortle, Wonshik leaning forward. Their mouths met in a soft kiss. "I was shy."

                "You were what?"

                "My father thought I was too shy. He wanted me to come out of my shell so he signed me up for a class when I was like, 10 and I just…" Looking away slightly, Wonshik's brow furrowed. "I used to hold a lot in when I was young. And fighting just… _felt_ good."

                Taekwoon wanted to say something, but to do so didn't feel right, not when he was being allowed a look behind the curtain into Wonshik.

                "Then I went to Thailand," the blonde outright laughed. His arms tightened as he leaned his face against Taekwoon's. "And everything changed. I never appreciated my family or my country so much. I grew to love Thailand, the people and the culture. But it was hard in the beginning—I felt like I didn't belong. And I have never felt so insecure in myself, as a person and as a fighter. Thailand made me start over. It was the most humbling experience I've ever had.

                "In some ways, it's why I am as dedicated as I am."

                Taekwoon had always wondered what motivated Wonshik. What made this brutal sport worth the effort?

                "But on the other hand, it's why I feel like I'll never be satisfied. And now I'm here, with all of these really good things happening but there's just always this… thing following me around. It's made up of all of these experiences and insecurities and questions and it just kind of," Wonshik suddenly stopped. Taekwoon watched him, slightly enraptured.

                "Kind of what?" he whispered, dark eyes falling to his.

                "It just kind of haunts me."

                Goosebumps scattered Taekwoon's body as he listened to the soulful words, putting his ear to Wonshik's chest.

                "I guess I wanted to finally put a face to it. You can't fight what you can't see, right?"

                That thought was heartbreaking and for a moment, Taekwoon wanted to hold him close and reassure him. But reassure him about what? Wonshik wasn't asking for sympathy—he probably didn't pity himself. But yet, he carried around this _thing_ without anyone realizing it. That burden must be hard to carry alone.

                Taekwoon's hands tightened. He would not over step any boundaries, he decided. He had done that with Joonki, always trying to fix things, to make things easy for the older man. He would not do that here, instead, he would just be around. He would give Wonshik the time of day and listen to him when he wanted to talk and respond when he wanted to listen.

                And come the day when Wonshik wanted him to fix something—whether he said it aloud or not—Taekwoon would.

                "What happens at the end of your grandma's story?"

                The brunette didn't need to see Wonshik to know he had smiled. "I don't even remember."

                Lifting his head, Taekwoon's face scrunched up. "What?"

                "I can't remember for the life of me. My sister doesn't either. I just remember that the kid is getting beat by some old guy and he sees the dragon in the shadows of the forest, watching him. I guess that’s the part that really resonated with me because it's just… blank after that."

                Taekwoon hummed, digging deeper within Wonshik's arms, satisfied and fascinated.

                Everyone had their baggage, it seemed. Even people as perfect as Wonshik.


	23. Twenty Two

                There was a round of applause.

                Wonshik just bowed his head in embarrassment. It wasn't like it was his first win. Or his first injury.

                But that's how people were acting, the gym erupting into cheers as he walked along the rubber mats. His face burned and he sought out Jae's face, something to make this feel real, feel normal.

                Wonshik laughed at the absurdity of it all, the crutch now feeling ten times larger as well. But it felt good to walk back into his gym, the smell and look comforting. Like home.

                Like another home.

                Taekwoon was starting to feel like one, too.

                Feeling his lips start to quirk, he thought of the morning goodbyes. The brunette promised with a kiss that he'd be there when Wonshik got back.

                Something as simple as that made such a difference, didn't it?

                Before he could smile like the fool he was, something drew his eye up. And over, watching as two people exited Jae's office, one being his trainer himself. The older man was talking as he descended the stairs, looking back every now and then.

                But that's not what—who held Wonshik's attention.

                Choi Joonki.

                "The hell is he doing here?" Wonshik mumbled to himself, curious, face losing his smile as quickly as it had sprung up.

                There was no secret to the identity of Taekwoon's ex. Wonshik had always had a sneaking suspicion, the timelines between the 'best friend' and the 'ex-boyfriend' just always adding up. But the older man was so secretive about it that finally, one night, when Taekwoon was in the shower, Wonshik had peeked at his phone.

                He'd regretted it—and was never going to tell Taekwoon he had actually looked. But he remembered the text from Joonki, the one pleading for a chance because their years of history had to mean _something_.

                Then he remembered Taekwoon kissing him slow, not reacting to the text, as if it was nothing. And Wonshik had given the brunette the benefit of the doubt—no, he had trusted him.

                But now, the blonde pondered, Joonki was walking behind his trainer as they came down to the first level of the gym. Wonshik just watched as Jae smiled, Joonki too. But they each wore very different faces.

                "Wonshik! I am sure you two have met but this is—"

                "I know," Wonshik said tightly. He turned his head towards the taller man, internally frowning. The air thickened as they settled before each other.

                Present and Past.

                They both acknowledged it before Joonki bowed, grinning wider.

                "It's an honor."

                "Joonki is interested in training here. You know he's…" Jae trailed off, brow furrowing. There was an obvious vibe, the silence—the absolute silence between the two was colored and it was his trainer's job to detect shifts in his body language as much as it was Wonshik's.

                And the moment was painted with tension, Jae narrowing light eyes towards his prize fighter. 

                But Wonshik couldn't find it in himself to play along. He didn't like it, he didn't think he could be fine with Joonki suddenly inserting himself into his daily routine.

                Stretching his shoulder slightly, his eyes never wavered.

                "That's all you're here for?"

                Jae's eyes narrowed. He certainly didn't like being played for a fool and Joonki even looked surprised for a moment. Then his grin fell into a smirk.

                "I knew this was the only way you'd talk to me."

                Before his trainer could voice his confusion, Wonshik asked him to leave with a look. Everyone else was still standing around, but the tension was palpable and even though most wanted to see _what_ was happening exactly, they also felt the need to take a step back. With obvious hesitance, the occupants of the gym resumed their workouts.

                "I don't really think this is the place for this—"

                Joonki laughed, derisive and on edge. "Are you fucking serious? I mean, I've already been to your house. Where else do you want us to talk about what happened?"

                "What happened?" Wonshik made a face. "I don't think there's a conversation warranted by what happened—"

                "You stole the love of my life. You don't think that's a big deal?" the taller man questioned, taking a step closer, closing the gap. Wonshik did not back away, though his fingers curled around the cold metal of his crutch.

                "I don't have the time or the energy to have a conversation about this."

                There was fire behind the resulting look. "I think it's the least you can do, don't you think?"

                "Joonki, don't do this again," Wonshik cautioned, voice deep with warning. "Not here, not at my apartment—"

                Said man took another step closer, but the blonde could tell what he was trying to do. Joonki was tall and he was sure he had tried to intimidate lesser man before. Wonshik's feet did not move.

                "Then just admit it. Maybe then I can have some closure—"

                Wonshik held up a hand, trying hard to control his face. "I am not the one who can give that to you."

                For a moment, there was silence. But the despair was so clearly written on the older man's face, wrinkles deepening before his nostrils fanned, like a bull's and subconsciously, Wonshik's fingers tightened.

                "All I want is what's mine."

                Wonshik's mouth twitched.

                "We're in the same profession so I want to be delicate," Joonki said softly, also aware of the ears turned towards them though eyes weren't. Wonshik wanted to look at Jae but didn’t.

                "Let me make this easy then," the blonde said, just as low. Eyes matched the man now a mere foot away. He had bags under his eyes, his hair was oily and he was thinner than the last time Wonshik had seen him at a match. But none of that was Wonshik's problem. "He's happy. Let him be happy."

                Red bubbled up from Joonki's neck, sweeping up to his cheeks as his lips pursed. Wonshik shook his head, relaxing the grip on his crutch. He looked over at his trainer. "No," he said simply. Then back to Joonki, he steeled him with a glare. "Now get the fuck out of here, talking about what's yours. You don't own anything or anybody. Certainly not him."

                There was silence, the only sound the soft metallic clink of the crutch as Wonshik turned. He wanted to be back home.

                "You know he's done this before, right?"

                There was a second where Wonshik wanted to stop, to explain that yes, Taekwoon had told him everything. Back before they had even kissed. When Joonki was being stupid and Taekwoon was sitting on Wonshik's couch, drunk and alone. But he didn't say anything—the older man simply wasn’t worth the effort.

                "And he always comes back. No matter how many times he leaves, he always comes back."

                Wonshik's next step didn’t come as smoothly. He realized that those words had stalled his feet and he forced himself to jump that hurdle, to mentally regain his footing because it was a scare tactic… right? Taekwoon had said once, he had cheated once before.

                Feeling something akin to dread, Wonshik shook his head. He would not allow this man put any doubt in his mind. Taekwoon was waiting for him—

                And the gut churning he felt, the disdain he now held at how _easily_ another could control his reaction, that was normal. That was Joonki trying to save himself from losing what he had already lost, Wonshik rationalized. It was all—

                He felt the air shift before he felt the touch. It was _barely_ a brush of fingers, but he felt them on his shoulders.

                Whipping around, the crutch fell soundlessly to the neoprene mat beneath him, Wonshik reared his fist, aiming as he sucked in a large breath. Joonki was right behind him now, lips curled down.

                "You thought you were special?"

                Wonshik searched the older man's eyes. He was shit at hiding how he felt and the blonde felt put off at the immaturity playing in them. He exhaled, lowering his arm. "Get out of here. I am not going to tell you again," he growled.

                Jae was there, squeezing in between them, giving Joonki a hard look. "You need to leave."

                The taller man's brow furrowed exaggeratedly. "I just want to talk—"

                "There's nothing to fucking talk about!" Wonshik roared, looking down to Jae. "Get him out of my face. I am seriously going to fuck him up if he's not gone in the next minute," he warned.

                Joonki laughed at that. "I've been dying for my rematch."

                "Hey, both of you—"

                Wonshik started to turn around again, ignoring the discomfort in his foot as he took a step. He didn't have time for this. Joonki was nobody and just because Taekwoon had wasted time on the asshole, Wonshik was having to deal with this fuckery. He couldn't—

                Suddenly, he went still. Then he registered the sucker punch.

                And that's when everything suddenly went black.

                When Wonshik came to, he was sitting Joonki's stomach, knees indenting the rubber mets beneath them as he threw hammer fists into the older man's face. He felt what was probably his nose squish slightly as he brought down another fist. Jae was trying to rip him away, but Wonshik felt his free hand just dig into the ground, feet curling, anchoring, as he switched to an elbow to the side of the head.

                "Wonshik _stop!_ " Jae bellowed, finally finding some purchase and yanking the blonde away. He stumbled over, but not after striking a kick to the taller man's ribs, heel of his foot meeting bone. Joonki howled, curling into himself, though his hands were busy covering his profusely bleeding nose.

                "I'm—I'm going to fucking sue the sh-shit out of you! I'm taking everything you have!" he threatened, voice beyond nasal as someone helped him up. Blood stained his shirt as it flooded over his chin and Wonshik's eyes narrowed.

                But before he could say anything, he felt the shooting pain—a dagger of heat shoot up from his foot and into his shin, nearly losing his balance. Jae grabbed him tight, both looking at the top of his foot.

                "Fuck," he cursed, looking back to Joonki who was being lead out.

                "The hell is wrong with you?" Jae gritted out, watching as Wonshik bent his leg, resorting to hopping on the other. Knowing he had probably exacerbated what was a small injury into a much larger one. Closing his eyes, Wonshik raged. Joonki wasn't worth this.

                And for a terrifying moment, he couldn't convince himself that any of _this_ was worth how he was feeling.

 

*

 

                Taekwoon looked at his phone. It was already seven in the evening. He had waited all day for Wonshik to return, knowing the younger man wasn’t going to the gym to train. But his two calls and three texts went unanswered.

                Glancing around the now dark apartment, Taekwoon took out his phone again. Typing the simple message: Hope everything's ok. I'm headed home. Pls call me when you get this.

                He was about to lock his phone when he saw them, the three dots to show Wonshik was typing. Then they disappeared.

                Taekwoon would not hear from Wonshik that night.


	24. Twenty Three

                "Ms. Lee, I'm not—"

                "Wonshik, I know your reservations but what she says is true."

                That was Kyungmin who had silenced his immediate no to the proposition.

                Wonshik looked down to the hard cast wrapped around his foot and calf. It made a snarl curl his lip as he tried to curb his immediate reaction.

                "I am not going to give him a fight," Wonshik reiterated, his normally understanding features screwed up as he stared at his injury.

                "Our hands may be tied," Ms. Lee murmured, her delicate eyes not flinching in the wake of Wonshik's adamance. She looked away and towards Kyungmin.

                "I'm right here," Wonshik snapped. Her eyebrow raised but she obliged and looked at her fighter. "And I am _not_ fighting him. I refuse to give him a paycheck—"

                "Wonshik, everyone saw what happened. He's out there saying you owe him a rematch and… and the company is listening. They think it’s a good idea… Wonshik, I _know_ ," Kyungmin said genuinely.

                The blonde shook his head, wishing he could just stand from the couch and leave. But to do so would now have to be done with the aid of two crutches and a hell of an awkward shuffle. Not the exit he was going for.

                He had broken his foot proper and the doctor warned of lasting consequences if this injury didn't heal properly.

                "He's also pressed charges."

                Wonshik's eyes closed.

                He could feel Jae tighten beside him, knowing the older man felt responsible.

                "What did you expect?  You basically shattered his face—" Kyungmin said smartly, cut off by the trainer beside him.

                "Bullshit! I saw it, he punched first," Jae nearly shouted.

                "It doesn't fucking matter," Wonshik muttered, throwing a look to Kyungmin then to Ms. Lee. "If he's going to come after me, then I am going to have to defend myself. And if the company wants the fight, they're going to get their fight…right?"

                The woman's lips pursed and with uncharacteristically heavy eyes, she nodded.

                Letting his head fall to the back of the couch, Wonshik stared up. Not for the first time, he wished Taekwoon was there.

                But at the same time, he didn't. He was angry, at absolutely everything. There was no corner in his mind where it didn't touch and he just really wanted to be alone. It was easier being alone.

                There was suddenly a knock at the door and all three of them whipped towards it. Wonshik continued watching the ceiling.

                "Are you going to get that?" Kyungmin asked. Jae stood and went himself, not bothering to see who it was before he opened the door.

                Wonshik eyes fell shut as he felt the energy and he knew.

                It was only a matter of time.

                Jae walked back into the living room and the second pair of steps were much less heavy, stopping just inside the apartment. Probably once Taekwoon had seen all of the people sitting around. Wonshik blinked his eyes open, catching the brunette's slightly wide eyes.

                It had been two long days but it had felt like an eternity. Taekwoon looked like he wanted to say something but the others in the room were keeping his words trapped. Wonshik's aggravation died a little bit.  

                "I'll give you a call. We can discuss it then," Wonshik said, voice rumbling as he swept his eyes towards his manager, trainer and agent. They all nodded, knowingly. Suddenly, shame painted Wonshik's body, his back breaking out in embarrassment. He hated they knew—just knew that this was all over _someone_.

                And that someone was standing in front of them, shy but intimidating. It just made the situation that much more irritating.

                As they all filtered out, Taekwoon ended up behind the kitchen island, watching as they left, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement. When the door closed, he immediately came closer.

                But not too close, halting at the very last moment.

                Wonshik repositioned his leg, groaning from the weight. One of his biggest pet peeves was being injured, it always made him feel at a disadvantage. Life couldn't go on around him like it had and though he wasn't a hasty person, he didn't like being slowed down. He _hated_ being at a disadvantage.

                Just one more thing that pissed him off.

                Wonshik felt the couch dip and he looked over, seeing Taekwoon look at his cast then up to him.

                "Your phone's off."

                The moment the words were out of his mouth, there was an automatic ache. Wonshik had missed Taekwoon's voice. He had missed his smell and the way he felt. It had been a couple days and he had missed Taekwoon something fierce.

                Wonshik scooted over a little, putting a bit more space between them. The brunette's eyebrows slowly raised.

                "Yeah. It's… It's been kind of crazy," he mumbled. "I was going to call—"

                "When?"

                It wasn't said with much of an accusatory tone but Wonshik suddenly felt like he was in trouble. He couldn't make Taekwoon understand—couldn't explain why he had turned off his phone. He couldn't convince his company that he wasn't going to fight Joonki. He couldn't justify why he had lost it and broken his foot at the same time he broke Taekwoon's ex's face.

                Everything felt heavier in the next moment and despite his foot, Wonshik moved to get up, grabbing the two crutches next to him. Taekwoon let him leave the couch.

                But the brunette was not silent. "I don't understand why you're upset with me."

                "I'm not," was the immediate response. It was true—Wonshik wasn't necessarily upset with Taekwoon. It was just that… all of these things were happening because of Taekwoon.

                More to the point, because of who Taekwoon had been with forever.

                Who he went back to all the time.

                Turning, Wonshik's brow furrowed. "Have you talked to Joonki?"

                There was an averted look—whether from shame or shyness, it didn't matter—and Wonshik knew he couldn't be angered. But he was, anyways.

                "You weren't answering," Taekwoon explained, responding to the unasked question. "He texted me saying you attacked him. But I didn't answer either."

                There was relief for a millisecond befor Wonshik suddenly felt bad. Since Taekwoon's text, saying he hoped everything was ok, Wonshik hadn't replied. He didn’t know what to say—didn't know how to voice how he was feeling. Because he was feeling a lot and there was part of him that just wanted to cut this off. Just chalk it up to a loss because the pangs of jealousy, of hurt and uncertainty just didn't feel good—they didn't feel worth the effort.

                There was a nagging voice at the back of his head telling him this was why he had never gotten into anything serious, wasn't it? Look at what it was doing to his career, to his state of mind?

                "What did he tell you?"

                Wonshik felt petty, but it would eat at him not to know. He had never been jealous like this before… then again, he'd never _had_ anything like this before.

                "Just that. I didn't believe him, I can't really see you doing that."

                "I fucked up his face."

                Eyes widened. "What?"

                There was a slice of satisfaction at the slight horror on Taekwoon's face. But immediately following, there was anguish. Did Taekwoon still care what happened to Joonki then? Was he upset that Wonshik had broken his nose and deviated his septum?

                Was Taekwoon really in his house, feeling bad for his ex-boyfriend?

                Wonshik frowned. That nagging voice was right. Listen to him go, how quickly had the blonde devised all of these theories from a single question.

                "And now, he is pressing charges and forcing my hand to fight." Eyes looked at Taekwoon, suddenly slanting because though they were apart, Wonshik wanted to kiss him. And feel him and just pretend like nothing had happened. It was the first time since Taekwoon arrived that Wonshik felt like he wanted to actually believe in ignorance being bliss. They had been _so_ happy.

                Instead, "How many times did you cheat on him?"

 

*

 

                Taekwoon blinked. This wasn't happening.

                He and Wonshik were good—they had been good just 48 hours ago. So where was this coming from?

                "Only one time. I told you."

                Wonshik was quiet, his eyes dejected as he watched Taekwoon. He was leaning on two crutches, the bright white cast on his leg barely resting on the ground.

                "Sit down," Taekwoon said, standing. He moved away from the couch and Wonshik looked to the open seats and then to him. He shook his head. "Don't be an idiot, Wonshik. Sit down. And I only cheated on Joonki once. I told you that."

                "He said—"

                "I am sure he said a lot of things. But that doesn't make them true," Taekwoon responded, walking over to the blonde. Their connection coaxed him close and it was familiar, despite the wall Wonshik had up. Being this close felt good and natural and when he ended up in front of him, their eyes met.

                His hands cupped the younger man's face. Taekwoon felt the warmth in Wonshik's cheeks as the blonde's eyes closed, turning into his palms.

                Wonshik shook his head, crutches moving backwards before his body followed. Taekwoon's brow furrowed.

                "I don't understand."

                "I can't explain it."

                Taekwoon's shoulders sagged. "Explain what?"

                "Why I don't want to be around… you," Wonshik bit out, eyes lifting and the sadness framed by anger suddenly changed everything.

                Taekwoon licked his lips, trying to digest it. He suddenly felt back in that apartment with Joonki. Immediately, he looked away and soon, Wonshik started to talk.

                "I just—I don't like feeling like I can't control things. There are a lot of things I won't be able to. So I try to control the things I can. And right now, I should be able to control who I will and will not fight. I have worked so hard for that right."

                Taekwoon felt the lead start to form in his throat as he listened. The weight lodged there as he watched Wonshik look away, shaking his head ever so slightly.

                "All he had to say was that you had left before and went right back to him. Do you know how—" Wonshik stopped himself, blonde tresses falling into his eyes as he looked down. "I just… I had never doubted you. But he just… He knows you."

                Taekwoon frowned. "You know me too. And if someone like him—"

                "That's my problem, Taekwoon. Someone like him. Someone that you spent the last, what was it, 15 years with? And now, because I'm in love with you, I have to deal with someone like _him_. I have to give him a fight, one that he will probably make a shit ton of money off of. I have to waste mine on lawyers just to get him off of my back because of this stupid fucking thing. And I will always… I will always wonder if those 15 years are easy enough to forget when you're with me."

                Rubbing his face as much as he could with the crutches beneath his arms, Wonshik sighed. Then he looked back at Taekwoon with heartbreaking eyes.

                "None of this is your fault. But I feel like I'm now paying for your mistake—"

                The moment it was out of his mouth, it was clear to see that it was not what he had wanted to say.

                Taekwoon didn't care; that was hurtful. And Wonshik had never been hurtful.

                Stepping around the table, there was something odd about this scene. He'd never wanted so much to go back in time. They had been happy not too long ago.

                "So… because my ex is a jerk, you don't want to... I mean, I don't understand this," Taekwoon whispered incredulously, trying to make sense of this.

                "It's not that black and white. I just don't want to deal with this—"

                "It's a little late for that," Taekwoon murmured. Then he saw Wonshik shuffling on his good foot, sure that he was in pain standing. "Fucking sit down."

                "No Taekwoon! I don't want to fucking sit down. And I don't want to do this!" Wonshik finally bellowed, face screwed up.

                "Do _what_? Argue? You act like the minute things don't go perfectly, it's shit! That's not real life. People get upset, Wonshik. And they disagree and they fight. And then they make up." Takewoon's face softened. "And life moves on. It's unrealistic to think we'd ever go without arguing, is it not?"

                At the younger man's silence, the brunette started towards him. But then stopped, the look he received stalling his steps.

                "I don't want that," Wonshik gritted out. "I'd rather be upset with myself because of something _I_ did."

                The lead in Taekwoon's throat dripped down into his stomach, pooling as he recognized those words.

                "I don't get how one minute, you're setting up our first date. And the next, because someone made you angry—because somebody from my past made you angry, now you don't want to what? Be around me? Talk to me?"

                "Date you," was the simple, but loaded, response.

                Taekwoon's brow scrunched up.

                "I don't want to date _anyone_. I don't like… this feeling. And my gut is just telling me to leave it."

                Taekwoon wanted to scream that it was a feeling! A fleeting, momentary feeling. Had Wonshik not watched any dramas? Had he not experienced life?

                "You realize that whether I'm here with you or not, you're still going to have to deal with him? Leaving me alone doesn't change what's happened."

                Wonshik sighed, raising his eyes. "What do you want me to say?"

                "I want you to get out of your head and just… You're always so forthright. When you tell me something sincere, I feel it. And I just want that again. You are sitting here and talking but I don't feel like you even understand what you're saying right now.

                 "I get that this is new," Taekwoon mumbled, wishing Wonshik would just let him be a little closer. "I don't know how to do this either. I've been with the same person my entire life. I don’t know what dating entails and it's just been us enjoying our time together. But Wonshik, you don't see me just giving up and going back to what I know because there is an obstacle in front of us. I want to be with you. Despite my history, despite yours.

                "The moment this becomes uncomfortable, you can't just say you don't want to do it anymore."

                "I can," Wonshik said softly.

                "Stop being so stubborn! Jesus, what's wrong with you?"

                There was a withering look, a deflating of the room and it was all Taekwoon could stand. 

                "Look, I'm just angry," Wonshik offered, still a distance away. "At everything and everyone right now. And I just want to be alone."

                The older man just stared, matching gazes before Wonshik glanced away, running a hand through his bright hair. Taekwoon swallowed around the lump in his throat.

                "OK," he said softly. He wanted Wonshik to look at him but that didn't happen. "OK," the brunette murmured.

                The blonde nodded.

                His steps over to the door felt heavier than most and with a furrowed brow, Taekwoon fought to understand. Why him? Why was Wonshik upset with _him?_

                Right before he opened and closed the door behind him, there was a call out to him. Without stepping back into the apartment he had spent so many enjoyable nights and enticing mornings, Taekwoon listened.

               "I promise I'll call you, ok?"

               Outside of the threshold, Taekwoon finally closed the door. Leaning back against it, he took a deep breath and shook his head. What the fuck?


	25. Twenty Four

                "Taekwoon, your phone is ringing!"

                That was Hongbin, yelling at him from the front room of the apartment they were looking around. One of Hakyeon's customers was a real estate agent and had suggested an alright complex for a very doable price. Supposedly, the renter was trying to find someone as soon as possible and 'desperate' had come up several times.

                 Currently, Hakyeon, Taekwoon and Hongbin were all looking around the two bedroom, two bathroom plus den. That last part was where the brunette was now, thinking of the music room it had the potential to be.

                He had left his phone with Hongbin as he wandered, since the younger man wanted to occupy his time and his own device had died on the train ride over.

                Coming out of the den, heading straight for Honbgin, Taekwoon started to feel the prickle of anxiety, his skin erupting in goosebumps.

                What if it was Wonshik, finally?

                Judging by his friend's face, it was. They didn't know about their fight—just that Joonki had gone to Wonshik's gym and they had gotten into an altercation.

                Grabbing the phone, he sent the two a look. Hakyeon sent him a thumbs up.

                Stepping out into the hall, Taekwoon swiped his thumb to answer.

                "Hello?"

                "Hi."

                The brunette sighed, feeling ten times better. He didn't know why, but the familiar greeting was enough to relieve some of his panic.

                "How are you?" he asked softly, starting towards the end of the hallway.

                "I'm good—can you hear me ok?" Wonshik asked, Taekwoon responding with a nod. Then realizing, he quickly said yes.

                It had been a week since he had last seen Wonshik. And he called himself trying to give the other time to deal with everything, wanted to make sure he wasn't pushing. He had hated when he wasn't given enough space.

                And though the silence was a little unbearable, it had done Taekwoon some good as well. He had created a particularly anguished composition, decided to shop it around and quickly got a bite. He had a meeting he next week with the label interested.

                But during that week, Joonki had also texted Taekwoon, asking if he wanted the charges against Wonshik dropped. For Taekwoon, his ex-boyfriend promised, he would. Because he still loved him and he'd do whatever it was that Taekwoon wanted. Whatever.

                The brunette told Joonki to stop using this as an excuse to talk to him and contemplated blocking the number.

                "Good," Wonshik said shortly. "How have you been?"

                Taekwoon frowned slightly. Wonshik didn't sound like he normally did and the relief he had felt at the beginning of the phone call had now all but vanished.

                "Been alright…  I miss you," Taekwoon mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

                There was a slight shuffle then a noise almost like breath rushing over the receiver. Taekwoon bit the corner of his mouth as he waited.

                "I miss you."

                Taekwoon finally took a breath, not realizing he hadn't been in wait for a response. His steps resumed as well. "How is your foot?"

                "It's fine," Wonshik said, almost like he wanted to laugh. "This cast is going to be the death of me, though. It itches so bad."

                Taekwoon was the one to chuckle and he leaned against the end of the hallway, underneath a glass window. The unit was pretty high up with a distant view of downtown Seoul.

                "When do you get to take it off?"

                There was a little interference but Taekwoon could make out the blonde saying six weeks as he pushed off and resumed his walking. "Then I'll have a boot on for a couple more, to make sure I don't do anything stupid."

                "Will you be able to train?" Then cringing, "I know you won't, that was a silly question. I mean, like… what are you going to do for the next two months?"

                There was a short silence and then Wonshik sighed again. "Actually, I am headed back to Australia."

                Taekwoon's pacing came to a halt. "What?"

                "I am going for a month."

                The lights dimmed in Taekwoon's mind and something told him to hang up immediately. This wasn't the call he wanted to receive, no talks of reunions and apologies and sweet endings. Happy endings.

                His fingers wouldn’t end the call though, instead, he just listened as Wonshik told him all the things he was going back to Australia in particular for—to finish his tattoo, to enjoy their sun, etc. Each reason was a chip in Taekwoon's thoughts, brow furrowing as he considered the situation.

                "What made you decide to go back _now_?"

                "Taekwoon… Maybe we should have this conversation in person."

                Squeezing his eyes together, the brunette suddenly felt his chest twist. "If you're going to let this come between us, you might as well be hone—"

                "Joonki dropped the charges."

                Silence.

                It should have been a relief, one less thing Wonshik had to be burdened by. One less thing for Wonshik to feel was partly Taekwoon's fault.

                But the way in which the blonde said it, there was no relief. Only resentment.

                "He said you advised him to."

                Taekwoon shook his head, half expecting it. "He asked me if I wanted him to but I—" He stopped suddenly, knowing it didn't matter at this point. Wonshik already had it in his mind that he was still talking to his ex.

                "I am on my way to drop something off to Jae but I can stop by," the blonde said, as if that would make these words better, as if it was normal that they needed to talk about him leaving for a month.

                Taekwoon cursed his stubborn side. "We can talk right now."

                "Taekwoon—"

                "No, this doesn't make any sense. Why would you leave when we need to work this out?"

                There was another extra lofty sigh and Taekwoon knew he was pushing, that Wonshik was right. They needed to talk about this face to face, but he couldn't get off this phone call without something to move forward with. Good or bad.

                "I just think some time away from here will be good."

                Taekwoon wanted to say time away from him, but swallowed the immature words. "You just got back, Wonshik. I don't think avoiding is going to help our situation. "

                "All I can say is how I feel," Wonshik exhaled. "And I am just feeling all over the place. I feel like I have a fight that I am not physically ready for, I'm mentally fucked right now with this cat and mouse game Joonki is playing. This… I just… Maybe we rushed into this."

                Stomach suddenly dropping, Taekwoon's eyes widened.

                "I've had time to really think about it. I feel like, if we are going to make it, I need to accept some hard truths."

                "About me?" Taekwoon gasped.

                "No, no!" Wonshik said quickly. "Not at all. About… this. About being in love with another person and how fucking vulnerable you make yourself. In fighting, there are two principles to success: protecting yourself at all costs and finding your opponent's weakness. I have always learned that the soft parts of your body have to be guarded. So it's not natural for me to embrace how open I feel with you. Or how devastated this shit can make me feel. I'm not saying I don't want this, or I don't want you because you know I do.

                "I am just asking for some time."

                It was silent once more.

                "I really wish I could be in front of you saying this," Wonshik sounded pained and it closed the brunette's eyes. "Taekwoon—"

                "What do you want me to say?" Taekwoon croaked, leaning against the wall, head falling back against it. "I feel like you leaving is a mistake."

                Wonshik sighed into the receiver. "I'm sorry."

                Taekwoon dug the heel of his hand into his eye, running that same hand into his hair. What was he supposed to say to that? To this entire situation?

                Was this over then?

                No, Wonshik had said he just needed time.

                "After all this is over with, we will figure out where we go from here," Wonshik promised.

                So Taekwoon was just supposed to wait then?

                "Please say something—"

                Taekwoon hung up then, slinking down the wall to a crouch. Hanging his head, he felt his hair fall forward.

                He was upset that the call had gone so differently than he thought.

                He was upset that Wonshik couldn’t _see_.

                He was upset he wasn't prepared and his emotions, already heightened, were erratically pulsing around his chest, constricting his lungs as he opened his mouth to breathe. The tears were next and he closed his eyes against their wave.

                Device vibrating in his palm, Taekwoon didn't want to look for fear the tears would fall. But he couldn’t help it as he peered from narrowed eyes.

                Eyebrows raised.

                It was not Wonshik, as he had expected. Instead, his ex-boyfriend's timing was expert and there was a moment where Taekwoon knew he should have blocked the number.

                But he hadn't for some reason and as his finger hovered over the screen with a tremble, he hated himself for being so weak.


	26. Twenty Five

                There was rumbling beneath the seats and Taekwoon started to feel it in between the bones of his ribs.

                It was beginning.

                The arena was vibrating with noise and excitement and anxiety—but the good kind. The MMA hadn't quite gripped South Korea as it had in Japan, but it was quickly catching on. As demonstrated by the fact he was surrounded by so many people in such a large venue. Taekwoon took his deepest breath yet.

                Eyes bounced from the others crowding him, the heads descending and ascending stairs between levels, the crowd's volume raising every time the countdown on the jumbo screen above alerted them it was about to begin.

                Taekwoon swallowed thickly.

                It had been three months since the announcement of a UFC first in South Korea: two native Koreans would be going head to head—spurred on by a personal riff. This was _not_ the fight to miss, they boasted. Between revenge and honor, this was a showdown for history. Lots of people obviously agreed, the arena packed by the end of the opening fight.

                It had also been three months since Taekwoon had seen Wonshik. In person, at least. They had talked every now and then in the beginning, trying to keep their connection. Wonshik had headed back to Australia a week after the incident with Joonki to heal before staying to train. A world renowned Jui-Jitsu center was more than happy to house him after seeing the viral video from Joonki's gym attack. More to the point, they wanted their name associated with Wonshik's victory.

                Or so the fighter had told Taekwoon. But the brunette felt like he was running and when he suggested it, Wonshik had stayed suspiciously silent before replying:

                "Maybe. Maybe it'll be good for you to be single—truly single for a little bit."

                Taekwoon had cried after that conversation because though Wonshik was being so fucking stupid, it also nipped at a feeling he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. And he wouldn't—instead he would do something else that changed their course.

                Suddenly, something nudged the back of his head and he craned his neck quickly, vision settling on two women who apologized profusely, tucking in their bags.

                Sanghyuk beside him laughed.

                Taekwoon sent a warning glance. Hongbin made a face at it and that only made Sanghyuk laugh harder. And though Taekwoon felt a little like he was babysitting, it was kind of nice to have the distraction of the younger two. Hakyeon didn't want to come to the fight, though Wonshik had invited all of them. That was before the fighter had received that text from Joonki and stopped talking to Taekwoon all together.

                Jaehwan wasn't there either because he had to work but he promised to meet them after for drinks and food.

                So now, there sat Taekwoon, Sanghyuk and Hongbin, a level up from the ground floor, in the middle of a row facing the octagon's left side.

                Another weighted swallow and Taekwoon wondered why he'd said yes when Wonshik asked if he would come watch.

                Maybe because Wonshik wanted him to come.

                Maybe because this needed to end.

                "I think there is gum stuck to my shoe. Sanghyuk, look—"

                Suddenly, the lights cut and the dome was blanketed in dark. Without thinking, Taekwoon's hand shot out and he grabbed Sanghyuk's wrist. The crowd roared and the energy duplicated then multiplied. Sanghyuk moved his arm to grab Taekwoon's hand, squeezing slightly.

                "It's going to be ok," he leaned in and whispered before taking his hand back. Taekwoon's jaw clenched.

                He had never been this anxious, had never been this absolutely distraught at what he was about to see.

                He was not ready. 


	27. Twenty Six

                The lights flickered, a low bass filled beat cutting on immediately to the screams of the audience. Sanghyuk himself was hollering until Hongbin pointed to the screen above the octagon which showcased Joonki's picture. Immediately, the youngest started booing, only stopping once he saw Taekwoon's face.

                The youngest took his time to look around at everyone, the hip hop song continuing loudly as a spot light at a corner of the arena appeared. Sanghyuk and Hongbin stood to see, Taekwoon just watched on the massive monitor as Joonki strolled down the walkway with his entourage, his eyes trained forward. Smug was a fitting description.

                Stomach twisting, Taekwoon watched what used to be his best friend make it to the cage, the audience a mix of noise and movement. Joonki had always wanted to fight in front of a large crowd.

                Hongbin was leaning in to Sanghyuk, both on their tip toes though they didn't need to, not from where they were sitting and not with their height. It was the excitement, the enthusiasm that Taekwoon couldn't catch. All he felt was dread as Joonki finally made his way into the octagon, the announcer introducing the older fighter.

                The lights faded once more—slowly this time, the dome drowned in vibration as people got to their feet in anticipation. The term 'booming' paled in comparison to what was actually happening.

                Suddenly, there was a 16 count of haunting violins blaring from the speakers and Taekwoon's eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving in eagerness. The crowd was stomping and it was eerie how the absolutely majestic yet heavy song fed into the mania happening all around.

                The music dropped out for a moment, picking back up in a soft melody before the spotlight brightened at the entrance again.

                There Wonshik stood.

                The crescendo heightened immediately and it was to the arena's delight as the song played, lingering vocals continuing as Wonshik started towards the center. Taekwoon's jaw locked as he fought to see, though not noticeably. The only thing one could really make out was the slope of Wonshik's nose and his small mouth before he lifted his face to Taekwoon's agony.

                It had been so long since he had seen that face that the older man found himself aching to touch those cheeks, that jaw. To look into those eyes.

                Settling in front of the entrance to the octagon, Wonshik quickly shed his sweatpants to reveal high thigh midnight blue shorts and just as fast, lifted out of his hoodie. Taekwoon's eyes widened.

                Wonshik's hair was short and jet black, barely dusting his forehead as he was patted down by an official. His head swung from side to side, finally allowing Jae to pop his mouth guard in. With a last final nod—and a ritual bow to his team, he hopped into the octagon as the final sounds of his song echoed.

                Taekwoon fought to breathe.

                "Holy shit… Is he real?"

                Hongbin was referring to the fact that Wonshik, in all his six foot glory, stood on the mat covered in tattoos just as dark as his hair, the ones on his chest and shoulders already shiny with perspiration. The newest work on his leg, the dragon that peaked out from the top of his shorts, snaking all the way down to his ankle, begged for attention with its red and greens and yellows. It was not a coincidence the couple behind them shrieked.

                Time away from South Korea had done Wonshik well. His skin, tan from the southern hemisphere summer sun, glowed as he stretched his limbs, dark eyes trained on Joonki.

                 It was easy to call this fight a personal one. But it was even more so with the look in Wonshik's eye. There was a calm to this storm and Taekwoon's forehead furrowed, hands shaking as his mind warred with his body.

                Wonshik raised one fist as the announcer introduced him, the arena absolutely losing it.

                Taekwoon's lips curved despite his unease, the energy expanding along his skin, raising goosebumps in their wake.

                It reminded him of that very first fight in China.

                "Oh my god, this is happening," Sanghyuk tittered, his knees bending as he bounced slightly. He looked over to Taekwoon, throwing an arm around his shoulder. He was no Hakyeon, but he was trying and that meant a lot—so much to the brunette.

                The referee started the fight with a quick bark and Taekwoon's stomach twisted as they all watched the two fighters ascend upon each other. Sweat broke out on his back as they danced around each other, neither throwing a punch. And right before he could just feel Hongbin get impatient, Joonki threw a long, wide punch.

                The crowd lit up like a match.

                Wonshik easily dodged it, backing away with quick, wrapped feet.

                Loosening his arms, Joonki started again, this time doing a double swing, hoping for any connection but there was none and when he tried to come again too quickly, Wonshik was there to take advantage.

                Wonshik launched a straight jab into the other fighter's nose, stunning the older man back against the cage, but he was not there for long.

                Wonshik had lowered his shoulders and drove into Joonki's stomach, hands wrapping around the older fighter's thighs easily lifting him from his feet before slamming him down on his back.

                The screams from the crowd hit a level pitch and Taekwoon's eyes squinted as the electricity in the air started to strangle his airflow. But he couldn't look away, Joonki trying in earnest to get Wonshik off of him, driving his elbow into the younger man's temple. One connected it seemed as Wonshik shifted back briefly, blocking a kick from Joonki's long legs as he hovered over him like a predator playing with its prey. Joonki lashed out another kick in desperation.

                Wrong move.

                Easily, Wonshik grabbed Joonki's ankle and quickly spun like a cobra coiling around its next meal, pulling that same leg back against him in an awkward, unnatural angle. Joonki wailed.

                The crowd was jumping, their feet quaking the entire stadium, Taekwoon's hands now tangled into Sanghyuk's shirt (and back). It didn't take long for the younger to have the upper hand and it was only a matter of seconds before Joonki would have to tap out.

                Wonshik suddenly let go.

                To the amazement of everyone in the crowd, the announcers, Joonki and his own team, Wonshik released the leg bar and rolled off of the older fighter.

                Still on the ground, Joonki blinked up, breathing hard. Wonshik pointed at him.

                Then he curled his finger, beckoning the man forward.

                This wouldn't be over so soon, Wonshik promised.

                The arena reached hysteria at the prospect that Kim Wonshik wanted to take his time beating the ever living shit out of Choi Joonki and it was almost too much to bear. Sanghyuk and Hongbin were screaming at the top of their lungs, a deafening chant of Wonshik's name reverberating throughout the arena.

                Taekwoon could only blink.

 

-

 

                Joonki was confused, Jae was using the foulest language he had ever heard but Wonshik didn't want this to end in a submission. He wanted to fuck Joonki up—it would be the only time he could.

                Naturally, Wonshik was not going to pass on the opportunity.

                The crowd was white noise in his ears as Joonki started towards him again, a renewed fire within his pupils.

                Wonshik grinned.

                The next punch to land on Joonki's face was to his ear and it slid too much to do any damage, but the counter attack-- a good left hook-- from the older fighter answered Wonshik's miscalculation, his feet shuffling back. That only fed Wonshik's rage and he pulled let his curled first run under his eye, squinting at the slight sting.

                Forcing himself forward, Wonshik held his hands out, toying with Joonki's own. The older fighter's feet stuttered back before he lunged but it was easily avoided, Wonshik planting then shooting a solid kick to Joonki's left thigh. The other backtracked, Wonshik following him as they neared the chain links of the cage walls again. Wonshik lowered his shoulders, the crowd spiking again. He could feel their vibrations, taste their vitality.

                Tackling Joonki was easier this time because the fear in the older man's movements were starting to intercept his judgement calls. When Wonshik brought Joonki's back to the mat, his knees framing the other's body, he raised his hands in a strikingly familiar manner, flashbacks of the gym flying through his mind.

                Instead of letting his fists fall like a hammer, he cocked his arm back and mercilessly fired against a struggling Joonki. After some grappling, Joonki's hips knocked Wonshik off and in a show of actual will power, Joonki clamored to his feet. His bleeding nose must have brought back some bad memories and the nervous fighter suddenly looked like he wanted to kill Wonshik.

                Wonshik raised his hands halfway in delight, heading backwards into the middle of the octagon. The audience hummed in pitch, chanting his name again, sweat dripping from his hairline down to his forehead into his eyes. Squinting, he shook it away and waited.

                Though he didn't have to wait long, not for Joonki—tired and hurt—to come to him. And it was in a fitting moment that there was a quick pause, a moment of cowardice, Wonshik launching his fist into Joonki's side. He could feel the ripple of mass—of skin and muscle through to the soft part where organs lay. The older fighter hopped back, a quick almost overlooked shake of his leg as he appeared to be trying to walk that one off. The crowd  _oooh-_ ed and Jae was screaming at him.

                _Take it_ _!_ they ordered.

                _End it_ , his inner self demanded.

                Stepping with all of his weight into his leg, his dragon flexing at the power, Wonshik propelled his right arm forward, fist colliding with the magic side of Joonki's chin. Wonshik watched as the older fighter's eyes rolled back into his head, legs and arms losing rigidity as he unceremoniously flew to the left, body crashing into the cage and down towards the mat with no instinctual reaction to soften the blow.

                It all happened in slow motion and Wonshik felt his lungs freeze as he watched.

                Joonki hit the ground on his side, unmoving.

                He was done.

                Wonshik breathed out forcefully, feeling the referee come to stand in front of him as if he'd go after the man who had lost consciousness.

                He didn't need to—this was over.

                It started in his loins, the elation that spread through his veins and out of his mouth as he cried out, roaring with the crowd. Walking to the cage, he hopped up on it, raising his fist as he smiled tiredly.

                Then he rested his forehead in his hands. Finally, it was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, what did you think? :)


	28. Twenty Seven

             "I feel like I want to fight something!"

             If Hakyeon were there, he would have admonished Sanghyuk for his ridiculous comment. But Hakyeon was not and Hongbin just gave the younger man a rolling of his eyes.

              "You're so thirsty," he chided, receiving an exaggerated punch to the arm. The two then fell into laughter.

              "Me and him are friends, I don't need to be thirsty…"

              Taekwoon stopped listening to the younger man and just stared at the street lamps that lined the block. He still had goosebumps, his body's refusal to calm down bristling in the wind. It was no small miracle he could keep his face straight because internally, he was losing his shit.

               Wonshik was _amazing_.

               That thought made his lips curl, sardonically, as their current state started to rain on his parade. Their very non-existent current state.

               Pressing his lips into a straight line, Taekwoon looked over at Sanghyuk and Hongbin who were excitedly chatting. The energy that wouldn't quit. They had witnessed something magical and despite the baggage-riddled fight, Taekwoon couldn't help but feel like Joonki had finally gotten what he deserved.

               And Wonshik got to do what he does best.

               It felt wrong to be as proud of Wonshik as he did.

               "Jaehwan said that he'll meet us here."

               Taekwoon blinked. Here?

               Looking up, he saw the bright bar sign, not realizing they had gotten this far this quick—almost clear across town. It was closer to the grocery store so Jaehwan wouldn't have to travel long and if anything, it would be further from the adrenaline-drunk crowds.

               "Let's get a table so we can eat," Hongbin suggested and Sanghyuk shook his head.

               "I don't even think I can stomach anything," the youngest said, grinning widely. Taekwoon rolled his eyes this time but secretly agreed.

               The three made their way to a long table in the corner towards the back, shrouded in dying lights. Shrugging out of his jacket, Taekwoon sat at the innermost seat, leaning his body towards the wall. The other two sat around it before hailing a server.

               Taekwoon found himself thinking of the fight, not able to suppress his smile quick enough and he bowed his head, biting the corner of his mouth. He didn’t know why he didn’t want anyone to know he had enjoyed seeing Wonshik.

               Perhaps he was trying to convince himself he hadn't enjoyed seeing Wonshik as much as he had.

               Like a dark rolling cloud suddenly obscuring the sun, that thought was melancholy enough to kill any excitement left and Taekwoon ended up frowning at the table top, dragging a finger down a large scratch in the worn wood table.

               "Jaehwan's here!"

 

*

 

                An hour later, Taekwoon had barely finished his first glass of wine. He had realized very quickly into it that it would not help his mood and while Jaehwan was a nice (loud) distraction, Taekwoon hadn't been expecting the sorrow to appear as soon as the euphoria faded. It was easy to feel good about seeing Wonshik when his heart was pumping like mad and all that mattered was the energy-soaked present.

               But staring in his glass of white, all Taekwoon could think of was months ago, being able to call Wonshik to tell him how proud he was. How amazing he had been up there. How Taekwoon couldn't wait to see him after.

               "Hey now," Jaehwan said, grinning in his face, eyes disappearing. "None of that, ok?"

               Taekwoon figured he meant the frown on the brunette's face but it was _hard_.

                It had been ever since Joonki had put the nail in his and Wonshik's coffin.

                "Yeah, don't worry, Taekwoon. It'll all work out," Sanghyuk promised from the other side of the table.

                But before Taekwoon could ask what that even meant, the conversation had shifted to Sanghyuk's new internship, how he liked being in a "new" city since it was just a town over, approximately 45 minutes driving. The younger man had relocated out of his parent's house and into a small stipend-provided apartment that Hakyeon had taken upon himself to decorate.

                Speaking of which…

                "So you've been in Seoul like, every weekend since you moved," Jaehwan said, taking a particularly greasy bunch of fries, hesitating to eat until he finished his question. "Why do you keep coming back?"

                "Who do you think?" Hongbin answered for him, earning pursed lips and a warning look from the normally sunny youth. Taekwoon snorted.

                It was not uncommon to see Sanghyuk on the weekends, emerging from Hakyeon's bedroom at a time of morning too early to call a visit. It seemed to have started after Hakyeon's second trip to Sanghyuk's new place.

                It was cute, the brunette thought, watching Sanghyuk's face turn red as Jaehwan crowed.

                But it was also selfishly disheartening. It was great to see Hakyeon so happy—finally. But it just reminded him of what was once. And how everything had changed just as quickly as it had started.

                "Let's toast," Taekwoon suddenly suggested, holding up his glass.

                "To what?" Sanghyuk asked though his glass was already lifted. Hongbin's joined and Jaehwan hurriedly wiped his oily fingers on his napkin before raising his own.

                 "To Sanghyuk and Hakyeon for finally figuring out what the fuck they were doing," Jaehwan smirked, narrowly dodging a boot to his shin.

                 "To being single and free," Hongbin said pointedly and Taekwoon felt a laugh bubble, his eyes closing at the absurdity. He clinked his glass with his younger friend's.

                 "I second that," he said softly.

                 Sanghyuk's eyes slid away from them, past Taekwoon and towards the entrance. Then they returned. "I wouldn't be so sure, Taekwoon."

                 Brow furrowing, Taekwoon was about to ask when he felt everyone's eyes head to the entrance. And before he could look, there was a sense of just _knowing._ Not sure how—he certainly didn't want to think he could feel Wonshik's energy or anything silly like that.

                 But he felt the air change, his body tensing and his head turned to look over his shoulder at the threshold of the restaurant, knowing exactly who'd be looking back.

                 Taekwoon was not disappointed.

                 Wonshik was wearing a bright smile, intended for the others and it was amazing to see how it changed when he met Taekwoon's eyes. It died—that much he recognized, but it settled into something a little more endearing, something more moving. That smile was familiar, he had seen it many times through the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

                 Then it turned into something almost guilty.

                 Breathing through his nose, Taekwoon watched as the younger man came towards their table. He was clad in blue jeans and a nice dark sweater, as if he had been headed to a nice dinner. Reminded him of their first date.

                 But wait—how did Wonshik know they'd be here?

                 The fighter's adrenaline was still swarming and it bled into each of theirs, Taekwoon feeling his lips twisting upwards before he forced them into a straight line.

                 "I have to go to the bathroom," Sanghyuk immediately announced, standing but Taekwoon barely heard him over the stammer of his heartbeat as it echoed in his ears. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the youngest pull Hongbin with him. "Jaehwan, come on."

                There was no objection and suddenly Taekwoon understood what was happening, watching as they all walked past Wonshik with a brief greeting, knowing smiles on their faces. Sanghyuk looked back at him, still seated. Taekwoon narrowed his eyes into a glare.

                Wonshik faced towards the table once more, lips pursing slightly, the lingering of a smile painting him almost boyish. He headed towards the opposite side and Taekwoon couldn’t tear his eyes away, following each step. He really hadn’t thought he'd see Wonshik up close so soon, not after what happened.

                "Hi."

                Taekwoon felt a knot twist in as his eyes sagged, brow furrowing. But he answered anyways.

                "Hi," he breathed at the familiar greeting.

                Wonshik's small mouth warped slightly before he took a seat, taking a deep breath himself.

                "I didn't know they were going to do that," Taekwoon pushed out, feeling like he had to explain. Because it had been months since the two of them had even talked.

                But god, did it feel _good_ to be around Wonshik again.

                His skin was still vibrant, his eyes were still dark and still telling. His smell still invaded every corner of Taekwoon's brain. His nose was still slightly crooked and when he smiled shyly, a bass filled chuckle sprouting from his somewhere in his throat, it just made Taekwoon want to drown. Drown in the past, in the memories, in Wonshik himself.

                It felt like that first day, seeing him in front of the vegetables in the grocery store. This felt like he was staring back at Wonshik for the first time.

                "Sanghyuk texted me. Told me you all would be here," Wonshik spoke with a bit of bashfulness. "I wanted to see everyone."

                Not Taekwoon alone.

                The older man nodded, aware of the unsaid, forcing a polite smile to the surface. He was struggling to say something without it sounding like a bite or desperate—or both— and eventually looked down at the deep scratch in the table top he had been messing with the entire night.

                "You look nice."

                Taekwoon's eyes shut in a long blink and he took a deep breath before raising his head. It took a while but he mustered up the will to reply with, "Thanks, you too. Australia did you good, it seems."

                Wonshik had a half grin, a very attractive twisting of his lips. "I missed home the entire time."

                Taekwoon blinked, stomach dropping, sending the butterflies into their frenzy.

                Immediately, his cruel mind reminded him of their situation—their very complicated situation that reached a fork in the road two months ago.

                It had been a couple weeks into Wonshik's trip to Australia, when he and Taekwoon were still talking, trying so hard to work through their circumstances. They'd had the particularly difficult conversation where the then blonde had mentioned that it might be a good idea for Taekwoon to be single. Taekwoon himself wasn't ready for it to hurt as much as it had—wasn't ready for how it wounded and as he cried, he had finally done what he had been evading ever since Wonshik left.

                Joonki had answered his call on the first ring, out of breath and as if he had been waiting. Maybe he had been.

                But the older man had agreed to meet Taekwoon wherever he wanted to. He was just so incredibly happy that the brunette had finally come around.

                The couple met at a coffee shop the next evening and the moment Joonki had tried to hold his hands, cold palms clammy as fingers clawed his as if they'd never let go, Taekwoon had realized it was a mistake. A mistake made in a moment of weakness and wretched self-pity.

                Taekwoon had left that night after explaining that they probably couldn't be friends, that Joonki should stop waiting for him. That regardless of whether Taekwoon ended up with Wonshik, there was no going back to them. Despite being best friends, despite being lovers, they weren't those stupid kids anymore. They had matured at different rates and were no longer living in the same time.

                Joonki had just watched his face, eyes searching until they finally stopped shifting and narrowed, jaw set. But he didn't say anything, just let Taekwoon leave.

                 The next morning, Taekwoon awoke to a text from his ex-boyfriend. He remembered the feeling like it was yesterday, opening the message to see a simple, vindictive note accompanied by the fatal screenshot.

_If I don't get a happy ending, neither do you. Good luck with life, Taekwoon._

                The screenshot was of a text message that Joonki had sent Wonshik, displaying a candid picture of Taekwoon paying at the register of the coffee shop, unaware of the camera. Underneath it was simply: _Didn't take long did it?_

                 Wonshik stopped calling, stopped texting after that.

 

*

 

                   There was an obvious pause, a second where both looked away before returning. The air felt heavy—tasted different.

                   That was familiar, wasn't it?

                   Like looking at a memory, a snapshot taken but not quite the same. Taekwoon was handsome as ever, guarded too. Because there was no way to know what was going through Wonshik's head.

                   The older man looked nervous, like if he made a sudden movement he'd regret it later, like he would spook Wonshik into leaving. Which was fair, he'd admit.

                   But it was unlike that night in the cab, when Taekwoon was nervous for another reason. Because they both felt the energy they shared, by accident or on purpose. And he had turned to Wonshik, giving him a look he couldn't deny. That had been their moment and looking back on it, Wonshik didn't regret it.

                  Staring from across a bar table at, perhaps, the love of his life, he couldn't find it in himself to regret meeting Taekwoon that day. He couldn't regret getting too close to a man whose heart was already occupied—no matter how temporary it would be. There was no regretting the shared kisses, the silk of skin beneath his tongue.

                  Wonshik couldn't regret the moments after, staring into each other's eyes and feeling as home as home could feel to someone like him.

                   "I'm sorry, Taekwoon."

                  Taekwoon's brow knit, a shift of his eyes to follow as his thoughts played on his face.

                  "I believed him," Wonshik explained, watching as that furrow on Taekwoon's face relaxed. His eyes turned pointed.

                  "He gave you all the reason to," he answered honestly, softly.

                  Wonshik felt his lips curl down, running his knuckles under his chin. Then his eyes fell, a sad, soft smile gracing his lips.

                  "That he did," he admitted ruefully. He could remember the feeling in his gut the moment he had opened the text from the unknown number. Just to see Taekwoon handing over money, looking amazing. For a second, there had been relief at seeing his face again. Then Wonshik's mind had pieced together the situation.

                  And he hated Taekwoon for making him want to cry.

                  Said brunette dug his nail into the crack in the wood table that he had been tracing. His anxiety was rippling off of him in waves and it didn't feel right.

                  Reaching over suddenly, Wonshik's fingers wrapped around Taekwoon's. They stilled in movement and Wonshik seized the moment to bring them further over the table, towards him. Heavy eyes met his.

                  "I told you," Wonshik spoke softly, dropping his gaze to their joined hands. "I've never done this before. And I want to be what makes you happy. Because that's all I want for you. But I have no clue what I am doing and I feel like I am walking into pitch black."

                  Taekwoon's fingers curled slightly, hooking an index around his thumb. Wonshik closed his eyes.

                  "So I need your help. I need you."

                 There was an intake of breath, a tightening of fingers and it felt good to finally stop being angry—to show Taekwoon he wasn't angry. Not with him, not with Joonki, not with anything.

                 "I am sorry for not having faith in what you showed me," he murmured, waiting for their eyes to meet again, exhaling when they did. "I won't do it again."

                 Taekwoon tugged his bottom lip into .

                 Wonshik's lips curved in relief.

                 "But you were right," Taekwoon spoke firmly.

                 Skin suddenly prickling—with excitement and fear—Wonshik curled his fingers, afraid that Taekwoon would retreat.

                 Instead, the older man added his second hand, disregarding they were in public, that there were people here. Wrapping around his, Taekwoon's palm was warm. His eyes were just as, catching and holding Wonshik's gaze.

                 "I think it's a good idea for me to be single."

                 A plunging feeling washed over Wonshik. His own hand started to pull back but Taekwoon stopped him, instead drawing them closer over the table.

                 "I haven't ever really been alone. The mere thought scared the shit out of me, lead me to think that I could hop out of something _so_ serious that had so much emotional weight just because I was in love with you." Fingers squeezed. "I feel like we would have been really good friends. And that's what I want—I want a best friend first."

                 Wonshik blinked, unable to keep his beating heart from thundering. "Just friends?"

                 Swallowing, Taekwoon's head bobbed ever so slightly. Then he smiled. "For now, at least."

                "A year."

                Taekwoon's head tilted. "A year?"

                Rubbing a thumb over the older man's knuckles, Wonshik almost pleaded. "Friends for a year. Then we go for our second date."

                Beautiful cheek bones lifted and warm eyes lowered in affection. "I was going to say six months but a year it is—"

                 "Wait!" Wonshik nearly stood, his arms tugging and the laugh escaping Taekwoon was worth the reaction.

                 Worth making a fool of himself, worth getting so irate he wanted to rip a human being to shreds. Taekwoon was worth all the anguish he had put himself through, because when the brunette smiled like he was, Wonshik forgot about his dragon for those few moments.

                 Taekwoon feeling like home was worth it all.

                 Taekwoon watched him, traces of happiness still haunting his face. "I've missed you so much."

                 Wonshik wished he could kiss the other man, to show that their attraction, their affection, their love was something substantial. That saying he missed him just as much would never represent just _how_ lost he had been without Taekwoon. Or show how many texts had been started and abandoned in cowardice. Or speak of what it felt like wondering if there would ever be a time that Taekwoon loved him just as much.

                 Instead, Wonshik just nodded.

                 "I love you."

                 There was pink dusting across the older man's pale cheeks, eyes fighting to keep contact. But he did and when Taekwoon his lips, Wonshik knew he didn't need to hear it—

                 "I love you too."

                 —but it felt so fucking good to.

                 There was a thick vibration against his thigh, their spell suddenly broken, Taekwoon's hands tugging free. Wonshik wouldn't release his gaze.

                 "So this means I can call you tomorrow then?"

                 That mouth he had always admired, something that had always so expressive, curled into a grin.

                 For the second time that night, Wonshik fought down the intense urge to kiss Taekwoon. He started to stand, hesitating just in case Taekwoon made a move. Because he would risk his reputation, he would be happy to be _that_ fighter if Taekwoon wanted to give him a kiss goodbye.

                  But he didn't, instead Taekwoon watched him with satisfied eyes and there was a moment where that was enough.

                  "I'll call you tonight."

                  "Eager."

                  Wonshik laughed, harder than he preferred but it felt good after so long. Then, fully on his feet, he caught Taekwoon's eyes once more. "A year?"

                  Taekwoon's chuckle was endearing and it kept him company as he bowed in goodbye, heading out to the car waiting. He had a dinner to attend and though it was an obligation, he smiled anyways. Because he and Taekwoon would be alright. They'd get through this and they'd be better for it.

                  Not able to deny the grin on his face, Wonshik didn't look back at the entrance of the bar. Rather, he looked down to his phone, starting the text he'd send later that night.

 

*

 

                   Taekwoon's eyes shook as he watched Wonshik walk out, finally—suddenly taking an urgent breath. At the last sight, he dropped his head into his hands, showing all that he had tried to hide.

                   Behind the black of his eyes, he saw Wonshik. Standing in front of that produce section. Then in front of him in the stairwell. Then in front of him at the airport. Then Wonshik lying against him as he spoke of his dragon, staring in his eyes as if there were only them two.

                   There were only them two.

                   His phone rattled against the table where he had left it, cutting into his reflection. Lifting his head slowly, Taekwoon reached out for it.

                   Lead landed deep in his belly but it was the _good_ kind, the welcome kind as he read—and reread—the words illuminating his screen.

_365 days doesn't seem too bad, but waiting a couple hours to text you feels impossible._

                  Taekwoon smiled, eyes blinking against the emotion.

                  Thumbs tapped, heart racing as he paused above the send button. Teeth revealing in an indulgent grin, Taekwoon pressed send:

_Let's make it 364._

 

**End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for joining me on this journey! To those who read this on another site to those reading for the very first time, I am elated you made it to this point :)
> 
> I know, these two had their moments and believe me, I lived in the same frustration. But as a writer friend told me, I have a knack for realism. Maybe too much so *looks off*. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed reading about these two as much as I enjoyed writing about them. 
> 
> I hope to see you in other fics-- until next time! <3
> 
> Raven


	29. Epilogue

_9 months, 3 weeks and 4 days later…_

 

                It had been game night, which Wonshik was now permanently invited to. He made the effort to come to as many as his schedule would allow. And that night had just been one of the ones he could attend.

                It had also been a day spent celebrating, Taekwoon receiving good news about the networking event he had been to the night before. Wonshik had wanted to congratulate him.

                Now, Taekwoon's ass was leaning into the kitchen counter, biting his lip as Wonshik took a step closer. He framed the other's hips with his hands.

                "Hi best friend," Taekwoon drawled, returning the now red head's sneaky smile.

                Pursing his lips, Wonshik stopped his advance, settling nicely in between Taekwoon's legs, heat transferring. The brunette ran a hand through the bright locks, slipping down the back of Wonshik's neck.

                The others roared behind them in the living room, not all as oblivious to the couple in the kitchen but the view was not new. Sanghyuk was kind of over it, bluntly telling them that he was ready for them just to have sex already.

                Little did he know that their friendship had already seen that moment come and go, a couple months in to be exact.

                But today was different because as Wonshik leaned in, Taekwoon was struck by how surrounded he felt. By how supported he felt. How they shared the same heart for a moment.

                "So, you mean it?"

                The brunette gave a look, pulling Wonshik closer. Gazes meeting as their noses brushed, Taekwoon answered him with a kiss.

                Mouth moving against one another, Wonshik brought his hands to Taekwoon's face, holding him there as he pulled away. Blinking with a gentle smile, he leaned in with a peck.

                "So where are you taking me on our second date?"

 

*

 

_2 weeks later..._

               

                Wonshik had just finished showering when he heard the front door open. Peeking out of the bathroom, he saw Taekwoon toeing out of his shoes. Head snapping up, he caught his gaze. Wonshik grinned.

                Finishing with the mouthwash, he noticed Taekwoon still had his jacket on when he came into the oversized bathroom, wordlessly settling next to him in front of the mirror. Wonshik didn't even have to ask for a kiss, their lips meeting quickly. Then the brunette looked him up and down, eying the towel around his hips.

                "Here," Taekwoon said softly, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he pulled something from his jacket pocket.

                Wonshik zoned in on the slips of paper pushed towards him, eyes squinting as he read without his glasses. Slowly, understanding dawned and his jaw fell a little. He looked suddenly to Taekwoon who sat back with a satisfied grin.

                "Really?"

                "Yes," Taekwoon answered, tugging at the towel. "So hurry up and get ready, I don't want to miss the flight. I'll pack your bag."

                Blinking after Taekwoon, Wonshik followed. He was still reading the plane tickets in his hand, feet following a worn path to his bedroom.

                Flight 122512; Incheon to Dublin.

                Beneath that were the two tickets to see the MMA contest between Wonshik's favorite two fighters. His thumb rubbed against the paper, mouth curving as he thought of Taekwoon getting all this together.

                It had been a long couple of months since the two had reconciled—but not quite a year. In the beginning, Wonshik didn't know how to have Taekwoon so close, yet out of reach. They were both single—actually single and in the beginning, they were both painfully aware of it.

               However, soon enough they had settled into a comfortable friendship. The days they could spend together, they did. The days they couldn't, they at least talked in some fashion. In the months following, their friendship had experienced some harder times but it was good—it was needed. Wonshik learned what it meant to disagree and make up in the same day.

                The first time they had sex as friends was after a rather heated exchange.

                They had also experienced some of their better times, being able to freely be themselves without an emotionally heavy cloud hanging above them. It was fun, getting to know each other again.

                Taekwoon had become his rock, someone he could depend on whenever wherever. It became a partnership and since suggesting they be just friends (with a slip up here and there), Wonshik realized what this meant for Taekwoon.

                How Wonshik was not an alternative for Taekwoon anymore.

                And in that, what it meant for Wonshik. Because he loved this man and now, when Taekwoon would pull him close or stare in his eyes, it wasn't because he was lonely. Or in need of a distraction. Or unhappy.

                It was because Taekwoon loved Wonshik back.

                "Wonshik!"

                Not realizing he had stopped in the hallway outside of his bedroom, the red haired fighter entered, seeing his duffel bag on his bed. Taekwoon stood in front of it with a glare.

                "We have to hurr—"

                "Sh," Wonshik interrupted, coming close with a smile. "I love you. Thank you."

                They shared one last kiss before Taekwoon grabbed his chin and gave him a firm directive to get ready. Then took his towel away and started into the hallway with Wonshik's bag.

                "If you're not dressed in five minutes, we're going to be friends forever."

                He was out in the hall by the time Wonshik could open his mouth to reply so instead, he looked down at the stack of plane tickets and match vouchers again. He gazed gratefully at the post it note on top, adorned with those three words:

                _Our second date_  :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter coming right up <3


	30. Short Bonus: One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff-- just pure unadulterated fluff, lol. I hope you enjoyed this peek into their lives :)

                Head, neck, throat.

                Wonshik clasped his hands together, raising them over his head much to the audience's elation. Taekwoon took a swift intake of breath.

                Dropping his hands with a force unrecognized and unanticipated, Wonshik ended the fight. The ref called it, pushing him away and making a signal towards the judge's box. The match was over.

                With a face just as bloody, though it was painted with the challenger's splattered blood, Wonshik rejoiced in his clear victory over Guillame St. Francois—the rematch he had been training the last year for.

                Brown eyes watched lovingly from the first row, hands tangled in his shirt.

                Wonshik looked like a maniac. Taekwoon would never get tired of that face.

                Blinking, Taekwoon started at the sweet breeze that filtered into the cabana, eyes immediately squinting from the sunlight beaming through. Lips curling, he remembered the week before, indulging in the memory of the fight.

                Wonshik had been so gratified and it showed. His muscles had vibrated beneath Taekwoon's fingers and mouth and—

                Speaking of which, Taekwoon raised from his lying position to his elbows, bringing a hand to cover his eyes. He watched Wonshik rise from the shore line, beyond him the pristine blue waters of the Grand Cayman Islands.

                It was December and this was Wonshik's happy place.

                Taekwoon's now, he guessed as his lips spread, eying his boyfriend as he glowed ethereal with the sun to his back.

                Wonshik's hair was blonde again and it matted to his forehead as he entered the white cloth cabana, his own mouth spreading as he saw Taekwoon watching him.

                "Did you have fun?"

                Wonshik slipped along his body easily, ignoring the protest from Taekwoon that he was dry and Wonshik was wet. Instead, positioning himself to fit in all of Taekwoon's curves, he rested. Head of stringy hair blotted Taekwoon's white shirt and with an indulgent smile, Taekwoon wrapped his arms around Wonshik's shoulder, laying one hand on his head.

                "No."

                Laughing, Taekwoon pushed Wonshik up enough to look into his face. "Why not?"

                Wonshik responded with a kiss. And then another. Then laid back down, humming with every one of Taekwoon's inhales.

                "Jaehwan won't leave me alone."

                Barking into laughter, it was no wonder Wonshik looked so tired.

                The fight had taken it out of him, his relentless training conditioning him for the all out brawl that was going to be the rematch with Guillame St. Francois. And after, though Wonshik had won in quite the victory, the younger man's body was battered and exhausted.

                This fatigue was not related to that.

                This fatigue was related to the four friends who were currently raising hell outside of their cabana oasis and Taekwoon knew. That’s why he had secluded himself in here the minute he had heard Hongbin jump on Sanghyuk's back.

                Wonshik was still learning, two years later, he was still learning.

                Taekwoon threaded his fingers through Wonshik's hair, scratching lightly at the rare curls by his temple. "Nobody told you to go out there."

                There was a reply muffled into Taekwoon's shirt and then Wonshik bit playfully at his nipple, laughing when the other slapped his head.

                "Also," Taekwoon said easily as Wonshik now hovered above him, looking like a vision, face still a little bruised and his skin tan from the Carribbean sun. "You were the one to invite them."

                Rolling his eyes, Wonshik started to get up but Taekwoon's arms slipped around his neck and kept him still. Nosing at the blonde's lips, Taekwoon let himself be kissed once more.

                "I'm trying to get in your good graces. If your friends like me, you'll have a reason to keep me around," Wonshik murmured.

                Smiling against his lips, Taekwoon's arms slipped down and he held Wonshik's face with his hands.

                "My friends are your friends now, whether you like it or not."

                "Are they now?"

                Reaching up, licking at Wonshik's lips. "And I have many reasons to keep you around."

                "Do you now?" Wonshik rumbled, letting his body sink into Taekwoon's.

                Laughing against his face, Taekwoon reached down and slapped at his ass. "Now scoot, they're going to—"

                "When are yall coming out?"

                "Yeah, the sun is starting to set!"

                "Hongbin is spying on you from that corner of the tent."

                Immediately both heads turned toward the direction in which Sanghyuk pointed, a faint _shit_ sounding out before Hongbin appeared beside the youngest.

                "You're an asshole."

                But he was smiling and so was Sanghyuk and Jaehwan and Hakyeon who now all crowded the entrance of the cabana.

                "Too late," Wonshik grumbled to himself, pushing up from off Taekwoon and reaching a hand down to help his boyfriend off the day bed.

                Holding hands, they exited and Hakyeon had been right. The sun was just starting to set, oranges and pinks fanning out over the sky and it was absolutely gorgeous. Squeezing, Taekwoon leaned into Wonshik.

                "I love you."

                "Love you too."

 

-

 

               "Toast!"

                One by one, wine glasses were raised and Jaehwan smiled. Then looked at Hakyeon. "Ok, you do the toast."

                "Why me? You were the one—"

                "Just do it, my arm is getting tired."

                "From two seconds raising your glass, really?"

                "See if you—"

                "I call a toast," Wonshik said easily. Looking at each of them around the table, he also smiled. "Thank you for accompanying me on my annual trip. The past week has been…"

                "Insane?" Taekwoon tried.

                "Overwhelming?" Hongbin offered.

                "A mistake?" Hakyeon laughed.

                "Interesting," Wonshik chuckled. "But it's been a welcome change to a yearly tradition. I hope we do this again next year."

                There was all around agreement—especially since Wonshik had been the one to actually purchase the plane tickets, the resort rooms and rent the private slice of beach. He meant what he said though, he would gladly do it all again next year.

                Despite the hiccups.

                They clinked glasses and were just about to drink when Sanghyuk raised his glass.

                "I want to also toast to Wonshik for being an amazing host. And treating us to a piece of paradise. I don't know that we'd ever get this opportunity and I know I speak for everyone when I say thank you."

                "Wow, the sun has matured you right up!" Hakyeon laughed, then looked at Wonshik. "Thank you Wonshik."

                They all echoed the sentiment and drank though Sanghyuk had stared at Hakyeon after that comment. Wonshik simply turned his head to find Taekwoon watching _him_.

                "What?" he asked, eyes squinting slightly as the flame from the fire pit and the flicker of the candles colored Taekwoon amber. His soft smile was angelic and Wonshik felt his stomach start to flip.

                Didn't matter it had been almost two and a half years, Taekwoon still made him a little nervous.

                Shaking his head, the older man just looked away. Then his face tilted towards Wonshik again.

                "I'm just happy. With you, I mean. Whether we're at home or… here, I get the same feeling of contentment and excitement." Leaning his chin on his shoulder, Taekwoon smiled. "And I am glad that when we fight, you always apologize first."

                Laughing, Wonshik leaned over and pecked Taekwoon. Then he reached for the wine, filling up both Sanghyuk and Hakyeon's glasses.

                "Drink up—by the end of the night, at least one of you is going to come to their senses."

                Wonshik had never really thought of friendship as a support structure.

                Instead, he had labeled it a responsibility, one he could not maintain with his training and his obligations to his body and his sport. He didn't have trouble keeping a relationship because he never had time starting one.

                Until Taekwoon.

                Then, along with Taekwoon came Hakyeon and Hongbin and Sanghyuk and Hongbin.

                And while it had been work—especially that first year, being able to go on his December vacation with the love of his life and his four closest friends didn't seem like a responsibility at all.

                Taekwoon's hand snaked around his waist and the breeze that blew was a bit chillier now that the sun had sunk completely beneath the horizon. Wonshik pulled him closer as they watched the water.

                Hongbin and Jaehwan started wandering off down the beach and Sanghyuk had plopped down in the space of sand next to Hakyeon. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he stapled his fingers and rested his chin against them.

                Hakyeon looked over, then ran his fingers through Sanghyuk's hair. "I'm sorry."

                Wonshik grinned, arms tightening around his boyfriend.

                December was no longer the one time of year he looked forward to the most. But as he sat listening to the waves swim up to the shore, felt Taekwoon's warmth and watched his friends enjoy what he was able to provide, he couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be.


End file.
